


Facing A Forest of Shadows

by Wikidclown



Series: Blizzardstar’s Choice Saga [2]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cats, Ceremony, Clans, Erin Hunter, F/M, Fanclans, Heterosexuality, Journey, Omen - Freeform, Prophecy, Sickness, Violence, Warrior Cats, blizzardstar, breezeclan, elkleap, frostfeather, iceclan, pineheart, spottedrose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-06-13 06:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15358758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wikidclown/pseuds/Wikidclown
Summary: ((This is book two in the Blizzardstar's Choice saga))Ever since the disastrous battle between BreezeClan and IceClan, the forest had been at peace. But a land grown on the blood of slain Clan cats will eventually thirst for more. An illness unlike any that has been seen before will take hold of the Clan cats. And it seems that the only way they will survive, is to travel far away into unknown territory...





	1. Allegiances

ICECLAN

Leader  
(In charge of the clan and the territory they live in)  
Blizzardstar- a medium furred all white tom with blue eyes. 

Deputy  
(Helps the leader with decisions; organizes patrols and helps keep the clan busy)  
Hailstorm- a black and silver tom with blue eyes.

Medicine Cat  
(Heals the clan and interprets the will of Starclan)  
Brokensong- a brown and black spotted she-cat with one green eye. The other is missing, ripped from its socket when she was an apprentice.

Warriors  
(Cats who protect and defend the clan; in charge of hunting and patrolling the territory)  
Sootsplash- a white tom with splotches of black, has green eyes.  
Quietstorm- a white and black splotched she-cat with blue eyes.  
Aspenclaw- a slim but still toned brown and white tom with green eyes.  
Foxstreak- an orange tabby she-cat with green eyes.  
Elkleap- a large and powerful brown and black tom with yellow eyes. (Apprentice: Shimmerpaw)  
Meadowshine- a shy tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes.  
Ashcloud- a gray tom with red tinted eyes.  
Weaseltail- an all brown tom with yellow eyes. (Apprentice: Lionpaw)  
Appleleaf- a cream and brown striped she-cat with yellow eyes.  
Sweetmind- a small framed calico she-cat with green eyes.   
Pineheart- a tufty all black tom with green eyes.  
Frostfeather- a sleek furred all white she-cat with green eyes.   
Smallfire- a orange and white mottled tom with yellow eyes.

Apprentices  
(Cats older than 6 moons; training to become warriors)  
Shimmerpaw- a dusky gray she-cat with blue eyes.  
Lionpaw- a russet orange and gray spotted she-cat with green eyes.

Elders  
(Retired warriors; too old or frail to hunt and fight)  
Redfern- a thin furred orange she-cat with green eyes.  
Willowleaf- a long furred cream she-cat with hazy green eyes.  
Nightvolt- a gray tabby tom with yellow eyes.  
Wildflight- a very skinny brown she-cat with green eyes.


	2. Prologue

A small group of cats sat, huddled at the bank of a rounded pond. They looked around at each other with apprehension. Surely they had not gathered to exchange good news. The largest of the group, a powerful gray tom, stood to speak.

"But I thought the forest wanted peace! Now you're saying that it will..." Stormsurge's voice trailed off. A similar gray she-cat, named Quickwater, stood a few paces away to answer him.

"Stormsurge, I know you must be confused. We are all confused. But the forest must keep its balance," the gray she-cat warned. She cast her gaze over the others who had assembled and knew that each one was equally disturbed by this news.

"I can see it," an orange and brown she-cat named Lilybloom muttered as she leaned forward to peer into the water. A calico, Spottedrose, sat at her side and stretched her delicate nose forward to stare deeper into its depths.

"What Quickwater says about the forest keeping its balance is true. The trees have fed on the blood of our Clanmates for many generations. Now that its supply has run dry, it will thirst for more," the orange and brown mottled she-cat muttered.

Spottedrose continued to stare into the water. Perhaps she hoped to find an answer in its murky depths. Quickwater dipped her head and turned to whisper something to the cat that sat next to her.

As the group whispered amongst themselves, a vision began to unfold within the ripples in the pond. The hazy figures of cats cowered in the center of the pool, their eyes darted back and forth, their pelts spiked with fear. A furious white storm of snowflakes circled the apparitions, thick enough to shield them from the shadows near the banks of the pond.  
The StarClan cats had grown silent, mesmerized by the vision on the face of the water. Time felt suspended as the foggy figures remained behind the comforting wall of white, feathery flakes. Suddenly, the bushes behind the StarClan cats parted and a chestnut brown tabby burst into the open.

He bolted over to the edge of the group and started to push his way through. "I'm not late, am I?" he asked in a rush as he came to stand with the other cats. Small curls of black fog caressed his paws and stretched down to brush the face of the pool.

"It seems you have just barely made it, Mudstar," Lilybloom replied as she stood beside the water. Stormsurge growled from his spot beside the bank, his eyes narrowed as he watched Mudstar.

"How do we know this omen didn't come from the Place of No Stars? I don't see why Mudstar needs to be here," Stormsurge hissed. A few of the other cats huffed in agreement.  
Spottedrose pushed through the crowd to Mudstar's side. She raised her tail for silence as she looked at the brown tabby with kind, gentle eyes.

"We can not judge the Dark Forest warriors for their mistakes," she meowed with a glance towards Stormsurge, "Some of them were only following their way of life. They still care for our Clanmates that live in the snow covered territories," she meowed loudly in the hopes that they could all hear her over the brewing storm.

Mudstar bowed his head, "thank you, Spottedrose. Now that StarClan has finally assembled, I feel more at ease."

Spottedrose bent her tail to rest across his back and turned to rest her eyes upon the vision once more. The other StarClan cats had grown quiet, their attention fixed back on the luminous water.

The white storm that surrounded the figures had started to fade. A few of the older StarClan ancients bent together to interpret its meaning. As the white barrier faded, the shadows at the banks of the pond began to surge towards the hazy figures that had been hidden behind it.

The curled shadows flicked forward to touch the frightened figures in the center of the water. One by one, the cat-like blurs distorted and changed forms. Some of them turned to lash out at the figures beside them.

"This looks bad," Mudstar murmured. Spottedrose watched in horror as the figures started to dissolve. Most of the cats turned to speak with their companions closest to them, their voices tinged with dismay.

"What does this mean?"

"Will this be the end of IceClan?"

"How long do we have to warn our Clanmates?"

Lilybloom yowled as she attempted to quiet the clamor around her. "Nothing will be figured out by you all cackling like foxes! We must warn our Clanmates immediately; but warning them of this threat before we've discussed it will only make them afraid."

"What do you think this means Lilybloom?" Spottedrose asked. The she-cat shrugged, she really had no idea.

"Then maybe we should wait, and hope for a clearer sign," Quickwater decided.

"Yes, that is what we will do. If everyone else is satisfied, we shall speak again after we have gathered more information," Lilybloom announced. All of the StarClan cats bowed their heads in agreement before they turned to disappear into the star-studded forest. Mudstar nudged Spottedrose with his muzzle before he turned to leave.

"I'm sure Frostfeather and Pineheart will be alright," Mudstar murmured.

"But what about Blizzardstar?" Spottedrose begged.

Mudstar chuckled, "What about Blizzardstar? He can take care of himself."

Spottedrose nodded but still wasn't entirely convinced. She mewed a small farewell as Mudstar trotted back through the black misted trees at the far end of the clearing. This first omen for the StarClan cats would not be easy to decipher, but the survival of IceClan would depend on it.


	3. Chapter One

The morning began with frigid temperatures, a normal occurrence for the IceClan cats. The wind echoed through the pine trees like a mournful howl. A white muzzle poked out of the safety of a large, rounded bush. The delicate, pink nose twitched as the cat took a few, quick sniffs.

Then the sleek cat leaped out of the of the bush. Her short, white fur seemed to sparkle in the light of dawn. "Why do we always have to get up so early?" a grumpy voice complained from behind the branches.

"If you went to sleep at a reasonable time, you wouldn't be so tired," Frostfeather scolded as she turned to look back at her companion. A muscular, black tom stepped out from the den, his eyes blurry with sleep.

"But Hailstorm hasn't even gotten up yet! He's the one who organizes the patrols," Pineheart growled. Frostfeather snorted with laughter and flicked her tail over his nose.  
"That old badger would sleep until sunhigh if we let him! Besides, we are just getting a little hunting in before all the other patrols crowd the forest," she insisted.

The white she-cat bounded forward and let out a loud trill in delight. Pineheart huffed and padded after her. As she shot passed a hollow tree trunk, a similar white pelted cat emerged from its depths.

"Where are you two going so early?" Blizzardstar demanded. Pineheart sauntered up to stand next to Frostfeather. "She wanted to go hunting," he muttered.

The other cat stepped further from the shadows of the tree trunk and came to stand before the two warriors. His pelt was snowy white, and he looked very similar to the she-cat that stood before him. "Maybe this morning isn't such a good time to go out. If you and Pineheart need something to do, the elders could always use some company," he meowed, his gaze stern as he looked at Frostfeather.

"But it's a perfect morning to go hunting," Frostfeather groaned, ready to defend her right to leave the camp.

"Well, it's Hailstorm's duty to organize the patrols. You'll have to wait for him to wake up and see if he assigns you to a hunting patrol," the white tom ordered.

Frostfeather glared at him, her green eyes blazed in frustration. "Come on, lets go visit with the elders," Pineheart offered, trying to avoid the inevitable argument. Frostfeather flicked her tail in irritation and reluctantly turned to follow him.

"I don't know why you always try and do stuff without telling Blizzardstar," Pineheart grunted as Frostfeather caught up to him.

"Well we can take care of ourselves, can't we? Besides, it was just going hunting. It's not like we were going to fight foxes," Frostfether hissed.

The pair quickly approached the low hanging branches of the pine tree where the elders made their den. As they ducked their heads and squeezed underneath, they came face to face with a wiry, brown she-cat.

"Oh, Wildflight! Were you just leaving?" Frostfeather asked in surprise. It looked as if the other elders just started to stir in their nests.

"I was going to go visit the dirt place," she remarked. "Did you two need something?"

Pineheart pushed forward to stand under the branches of the pine tree. "Hailstorm isn't awake yet to organize the patrols, so we decided to come and say hello," he explained tactfully.

"Well go away! It's too early to be bothering us," a gray tabby hissed from near the trunk of the tree.

"Don't you mind Nightvolt. He's always grumpy," Wildflight interjected, "I'll only be a moment and then we can have a chat."

She tottered away on uneven steps towards the dirt place. "Don't try chatting with me," Nightvolt grumbled as he curled into a tighter ball in his nest.

"You two can come sit with me," the skinny orange she-cat named Redfern meowed softly from her nest near the rear of the leafy branches. Pineheart eagerly accepted her invitation and squeezed passed Nightvolt to come and sit beside the elder.

"I don't understand why he has to be so grumpy! The elders get taken better care of than anyone else in the Clan," Frostfeather grumbled as she huddled close to Redfern's side.

"He is just too nostalgic of the times when the two Clans were at war. I know you've heard the story a million times," Redfern stated.

Oh yes, Frostfeather could remember the story well. The battle where BreezeClan and IceClan clashed. It caused numerous deaths and great misfortune for both Clans. In the battle, her mother Spottedrose was killed by the crazed Oakstar.

She knew that everyone always said that Oakstar was Spottedrose's father, which made him kin to Frostfeather and Pineheart; but she just couldn't imagine a father would kill his only kit. She couldn't even fathom the thought that Blizzardstar would ever want to hurt her, or Pineheart.

"Yeah, the forest needs a good blood bath," Nightvolt snickered sinisterly from the depths of his nest.

Redfern cast him an angry glare, "that's enough of that! If Blizzardstar hears of you trying to cause trouble he will drive you out of IceClan," she growled.

Frostfeather stiffened in shock. Would Blizzardstar really do that? "Let him drive me out! I don't care," Nightvolt snapped. Angrily, he shuffled onto his paws and started to leave the den.

"I don't think Blizzardstar would really drive him out," Pineheart insisted. Redfern just snorted and watched the edge of the pine tree where Nightvolt had ducked and exited.

As if on cue, Wildflight padded back underneath the hanging branches. "I just saw Nightvolt leaving camp. What happened?" she asked as she came to sit in her nest.

"He was just ranting about battle again. I told him if Blizzardstar caught wind of his chatter, that he would banish him from the Clan," Redfern explained.

"We certainly don't need any battle, not after it's been peaceful for so long," Wildflight muttered. Frostfeather looked at the elder with concern. It seemed like even the mention of violence sapped her energy.

"Maybe you two should go. I think I saw Hailstorm organizing the patrols," Wildflight informed them.

Frostfeather purred, "Finally!"

As the white she-cat bounded from the den, Pineheart stood to follow her. Before he slid under the spiky pine needles of the den, he turned back to look at Wildflight again.  
"Was Blizzardstar really as great as everyone says he was?" he inquired. Wildflight stifled a laugh, her tail tip twitched.

"Blizzardstar is still great," she purred, "he may have lost some of his energy but I think that was only from raising you two kits!"

Pineheart twirled his tail, "thanks Wildflight," he beamed as he slid under the branches of the pine tree. He trotted over to his sister, who had sat next to Hailstorm as he named the patrols for the morning.

"Awake early as usual," he muttered as Pineheart neared. Frostfeather rolled her eyes as he continued. "Weaseltail, you will lead a border patrol with Pineheart and you might as well take Lionpaw with you."

The russet furred apprentice bounded up to Pineheart, her green eyes shined with boundless energy. Weaseltail was close behind, his brown fur still ruffled with sleep. Pineheart glanced up at the sky, to see that the sun was only barely visible between the trees.

"It's still early, I'm sure nothing too exciting will be going on," Weaseltail teased his apprentice. It didn't seem to dampen her spirits at all. As the brown tom turned to lead the way from camp, Pineheart looked towards his father's den in the cleft of the tree.

It almost seemed like he could see Blizzardstar's crystalline blue eyes stare back at him, but he couldn't be quite sure. In the back of his mind, he truly wondered if Blizzardstar really was as great a leader as he used to be.


	4. Chapter Two

Pineheart followed Weaseltail through the dense pine trees of IceClan's territory. Lionpaw hopped after them, her eyes still alight with happiness. Pineheart could remember when he felt like that. As a small apprentice learning the territory, there was always something to be excited about. And always something new to explore, he thought to himself

His father had told him that before he was born, the forest had went through a great thaw. The ice and snow of the sacred pine forest had almost completely gone, and left marshy swamps and massive mud puddles in its place.

Now, the ground was thick once more with a layer of ice under a large blanket of snow. Despite the frigid conditions, the foliage still managed to thrive. There was plenty of thick bushes and grasses for prey to live and survive. IceClan rarely had to go hungry.

As they continued on through the seemingly endless forest of trees, Weaseltail came to a halt and turned to his apprentice. “Okay, Lionpaw. I just want to remind you that when we get to the border you must control yourself. Just because there isn't another Clan of cats next to us, doesn't mean you should cross the scent markers.”

Lionpaw rolled her eyes. “I was only trying to catch that rabbit,” she meowed.

Weaseltail flicked his tail and looked at her sternly. “But there's other creatures that hunt beyond our territory! If a fox or a badger were to find you, I'm sure they'd think you'd be an easy meal.”

Lionpaw shuddered as she imagined coming face to face with a fox or a badger. “Now don't go and frighten her,” Pineheart muttered. Weaseltail didn't seem to hear him as he turned to lead the way through the forest once more. Suddenly, a loud racket erupted behind the small patrol. Leaves rustled and twigs snapped with wild abandon. Weaseltail whirled around and started to move forward to shield Lionpaw behind him.

“Mousedung!” a cranky voice hissed from the depths of the spiky wildflower bush. Pineheart relaxed as he picked up a familiar scent that had been ignored in their surprise. He moved forward to help the entangled cat.

“Nightvolt, what are you doing out here?” Weaseltail called as Pineheart started to pull back the branches so that the tom could escape the vicious thorns. He squinted and tried to discern the dark pelted tom from the shadows under the bush. He noticed the elder's yellow eyes flash with contempt.

“I can get myself out,” he growled as he tried to turn in the tight space to free himself. His gray tabby fur was riddled with thorns and sharp bits of twig. Pineheart ignored his ill tempered reply and pushed further into the bush to help. He could feel the thorns hook into his fur, stinging like claws. “I'm only here to help you,” Pineheart soothed as he clenched his teeth when branches lashed his muzzle.

“I told you I don't need help,” he retorted as he flicked out a paw to swipe at Pineheart. The whole bush shuddered as Nightvolt shifted and made the thorns dig further into his skin. Clumps of snow that were perched carefully on leaves thumped down to the ground around them.

Nightvolt immediately stopped his struggle and started to whimper with pain. Blood dripped from where the branches had dug into his fur. “Just stop fighting and let me help you,” Pineheart grunted as he inched closer to the elder. Once he was close enough to inspect the knots, he noticed the tom was covered in scratches. All along his back, the thorns and branches were entangled with his gray and black striped fur.

“I'm going to have to bite through your fur,” Pineheart murmured as he stepped even closer.

“What's going on in there?” Weaseltail asked as he stuck his nose through the bush's branches.

“You IceClan warriors are mouse brained,” Nightvolt huffed as Weaseltail attempted to push his way through the outermost branches. Pineheart flicked his tail, surprised at Nightvolt's unwarranted attitude. All I'm trying to do is help you, he fumed.

“Last I checked, you were the one caught in a wildflower bush. I am also quite sure that you are an IceClan warrior just like us,” Weaseltail grumbled.

Pineheart, meanwhile, had started to gnaw at Nightvolt's short tabby fur. After what felt like an eternity, he came undone and was free from the dreaded thorn bush. As soon as he felt the thorns disappear, he rushed forward to tear himself from the remaining branches.

Pineheart followed him. He didn't want to find himself also stuck in its spindly branches. Nightvolt stood a few paces away. He had turned his head to inspect his scuffed pelt.

“Are you alright?” Weaseltail asked as he stepped forward to sniff at his scratches. Lionpaw huddled close behind her mentor to watch from behind his tail, her eyes wide.

“I'm fine,” he snapped, his yellow eyes flashed like fire. Lionpaw yelped, intimidated by the cranky elder. Weaseltail flicked his tail over her shoulders, not even remotely fooled by Nightvolt's bad temper.

“You don't have to worry about him. He's all yowls and no claws,” Weaseltail assured her as he kept his gaze level with Nightvolt. Pineheart watched the exchange from a few steps away. He really thought Nightvolt needed to return to camp to have Brokensong tend to his injuries. But it looked like Weaseltail wasn't ready to leave.

“You should be more greatful to Pineheart! Without him, you could have been stuck in that bush all night,” Weaseltail growled

“I don't need IceClan cats padding after me all the time! Just because I'm an elder doesn't mean I can't take care of myself,” Nightvolt hissed in frustration. As he turned, Pineheart noticed that some of the lacerations close to his paws had grown an angry red.

How did he get scratched from the bush that close to his paws, he wondered. In his distraction, Weaseltail had stepped nose to nose with Nightvolt. His tail flicked back and forth as he spoke, “but you can't take care of yourself! If you would have stayed in camp with the other elders, you wouldn't have gotten stuck in that bush!”

Pineheart kept his mouth shut as he watched the exchange. It seemed like Weaseltail was unusually furious, but he didn't know why he would be so upset with the snappy elder. Nightvolt must have just wanted to leave camp and had some bad luck?

“Weaseltail, I think Nightvolt needs to go back to camp and see Brokensong,” Lionpaw piped up as she nudged his flank with her nose. The elder opened his jaws for another rude retort but instead just turned and started to head back towards camp.

Weaseltail huffed and started to pad after him. Lionpaw sped after her mentor, her orange tail raised high over her back. “I guess Blizzardstar will have to send out another border patrol later,” Pineheart muttered as he trudged after them.

~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the safety of the camp, Nightvolt stomped over to Brokensong's den. Pineheart watched him go, but he felt mild curiousity as to what the medicine cat would think of his wounds.

They couldn't have all been from the thorn bush, he thought to himself. After Nightvolt vanished into the split rock, Pineheart glanced around the snowy clearing. He noticed Blizzardstar, who sat like a frozen statue next to his den.

“You know it's not polite to stare,” a feminine voice teased from over his shoulder. He felt his fur ruffle in embarrassment as he turned to face the newcomer. It was a fluffy, orange she-cat; her eyes gleamed as she gazed at Pineheart.

“I was just looking for Frostfeather,” Pineheart insisted. He tried to avoid her gaze as he looked down at his paws. Even though he had been a warrior for some time now, he was still somewhat shy around his adopted mother. She had always been there for him, after he and Frostfeather's mother was killed in the Great Battle.

“Well, Smallfire and I were just about to go out for a hunting patrol. If you'd like to join us, you're more than welcome,” she purred. He thought about it for a moment, but after the ordeal with Weaseltail's patrol he decided he would just stay in camp. Besides, they would fare better without him.

“I'm sorry, Foxstreak. Maybe I can join you both on a patrol tomorrow,” he offered. He dared to look up into her viridian eyes.

Despite her age, she still radiated energy and her pelt shined with health. She and her kit, Smallfire, would be perfectly fine on a patrol by themselves. Inwardly, Pineheart didn't really want to be around Foxsteak's only biological kit. Sure, they had grown up together. But Smallfire had always been greedy for his mother's affection. I'm sure he wouldn't thank me for intruding in their patrol, he thought inwardly.

Foxstreak almost looked ready to object, her eyes brimmed with disappointment. “Well, be sure to get some rest then. I'm sure Frostfeather had you awake before dawn,” she meowed after several heartbeats. Before she turned to leave, she gave Pineheart a rough lick between his ears.

He watched her depart towards the camp entrance as Smallfire bounded up to join her. Jealousy burned like a hot coal in his stomach but he tried his best to ignore it. After all, he had said no.

While he was distracted, Blizzardstar had vanished back into the depths of his den. Pineheart narrowed his eyes as he tried to make out the shadowed shapes hunched inside the entrance of the hollow tree. It looked like Brokensong's brown and black spotted pelt in the darkness. Shouldn't she be in her den?

He fought his intense curiosity to creep forward to eavesdrop on the two cats. They had wanted to be alone for a reason. With a sigh, he turned to slink back towards the warrior's den.

A short nap wouldn't hurt anything, and when he awoke he was positive that he would find Frostfeather back in camp. As he started to make himself comfortable in the soft moss, he thought back to the events from earlier in the day.

It seemed so strange that Nightvolt had wandered into the forest by himself. It was even more strange that he seemed to have acquired angry, red scratches from even before he had gotten trapped in the bush. Maybe he's just clumsy. That could have been the third bush he had fallen in since he left camp. But he had been acting so prickly. It was quite unusual.

He let his thought wander as he started to fall into a fitful sleep.


	5. Chapter Three

Frostfeather had just started to drift into sleep. She had hunted all day with Hailstorm and Appleleaf, but hadn't managed to catch even a single scrap of prey. Now, she just wanted to get a good night's rest. As she felt her senses gently tug into unconscious, she could hear a faint rustle at the edge of the den. She grumbled softly and flicked her tail tip. “Do you really have to come to bed so late, Pineheart...?”

She opened her eyes and was surprised to find it was not her brother. The cozy warmth of her mossy nest had also dissapeared. She now lay in a field of soft grasses and flowers. Before her stood a calico she-cat with a star studded pelt. Her eyes sparkled with wisdom as she gazed down at Frostfeather.

“My sweet daughter, it is an honor to finally be able to come face to face with you,” the calico purred. Her voice was soft and silky, like the freshest honey. Frostfeather stretched her eyes wide. She could hardly believe this could be possible.

“She seems a little shocked,” a different female voice meowed from further into the tall grasses. Another she-cat stepped forward to confront Frostfeather, her fur dappled with orange and brown splotches.

Frostfeather opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, she wasn't sure if this was real or just a really cruel dream. “Are you... are you Spottedrose?” she stammered, her heart hammered in her chest. She already knew the answer, it was quite easy to discern that this beautiful cat was her mother.

“Yes, my sweet kit. I have come to bring you a message, the first omen from our ancestors,” she meowed seriously.

The other she-cat nodded, her voice grave as she continued, “troubling times are coming for all of IceClan.”

The warmth that Frostfeather had felt as she first saw her mother had quickly faded to be replaced with dread. There was a dozen questions she wanted to ask, but all she could muster was three, short words. “But why me?”

Spottedrose leaned forward to push her nose in to Frostfeather's delicate shoulder fur. She felt her pelt tingle at her mother's touch, but the dread still clung hard to her limbs. “Your hard headed temperament may be the only hope for our Clanmates,” the brown and orange she-cat mewed.

Spottedrose took a pawstep back and touched her tail to her companion's flank. “Not just her stubbornness, Lilybloom. I know you have felt the tug in your paws, to travel beyond the borders of our territory. In order for IceClan to survive, you must convince our Clanmates to leave the forest.”

Leave the forest? Why would we need to leave the forest, Frostfeather thought in a panic. “But things have been so calm and peaceful in the forest,” she began to object. But Spottedrose lifted her tail for silence.

“Yes there has been immeasurable peace for the forest and the animals that inhabit it. But nature is mighty and powerful. Its roots have run dry from the blood of our kin, and now it had begun to thirst.” Such chilling words, but vague enough that Frostfeather wondered what they really meant.

While her mother spoke, Frostfeather saw a vivid vision flash before her eyes. She sat in the snow covered pine forest once more. The bushes rustled with prey all around her.

The longer she sat, unusual shadowed shapes flitted from the bushes to rush towards her. She could see flashes of red, bloodshot eyes; flecks of spit and foam spattered her legs as the figures nipped at her paws. She tried to pull away, to break away from the tiny creatures that bit and gnawed at her fur.

“It is not longer safe to stay,” Spottedrose's voice echoed in her ears. It helped her snap out of the spooky vision. She quickly looked down at her paws, but there were no bite marks or drops of blood in sight.

“What were those things?” Frostfeather gasped as her fur started to bush up all along her spine. She just couldn't understand why this would happen, why they needed to tell this to her and not to someone important like Blizzardstar. What could she even begin to do to convince her Clanmates?

“Herbs and prey will no longer be enough to keep you alive... trust nothing!” Lilybloom urged. Frostfeather noticed that the bodies of the two she-cats had started to fade.

With a tiny wail, she rushed forward to confront Spottedrose. “Don't leave me!” she whimpered. Her eyes stared helplessly at her mother's translucent form.

“I will never leave you, my dear,” she purred as her dream abruptly ended. She blinked open her eyes to find herself back in the warrior's den. Pineheart still slept peacefully at her side, his black pelt silky and smooth. She tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart.

There's no way that I just had an actual vision from StarClan, Frostfeather thought wildly. Her mind still whirled with confusion, her white fur spiked and her skin clammy. But that cat just had to be our mother, there's no other way. She was just as Blizzardstar had described her, just as everyone described her.

Fresh anxiety started to rush over her pelt. Her dream would have been much more enjoyable without the stress of an omen. An omen so vague, it made her head hurt to think about. But this much was clear, that IceClan must leave the forest. The idea made her feel suffocated, her lungs struggled for breath. Frostfeather managed to escape the den on silent paws. She looked up at the sky and discerned that it must be nearly dawn. Faint rays of light peeked from across the horizon to shine upon the surface of the snow-laden forest.

Now that she had left the confines of the warrior's den, she tried to let the chill air soothe her nerves. To her surprise, she saw a flash of white out of the corner of her eye. She turned and noticed that it was Blizzardstar. He must have just walked from the entrance of his den.

Maybe I should tell him about my dream, she thought hopefully. As she started to head towards him to go and speak with him, she watched in dismay as he turned and bounded towards Brokensong's den. She hesitated for a moment, not sure if she wanted to bother him if he wanted to speak in private with the medicine cat. I'm sure he wouldn't be too happy to listen to my mousebrained ramblings, she thought.

Just then, a faint noise caught her attention. It sounded like a cat in distress, but the voice was quiet and muffled. Frostfeather ran towards the darkness of Brokensong's den. She braced herself as she squeezed through the entrance, not exactly sure what she would find. 

Blizzardstar whirled around as she appeared, his eyes wide. “Frostfeather! What are you doing here?” he demanded. Brokensong was bent over one of the nearby nests, but her attention on her patient had not faltered with the sudden commotion.

Frostfeather peered around her father's shoulder and caught sight of Nightvolt's gray tabby pelt stretched across a bed of moss. His flank steadily rose and fell with the calm rhythm of sleep, but his breaths were punctuated with sharp yelps of pain. The air was punctuated with the scent of infection.

“What happened to Nightvolt?” she gasped as she pushed passed Blizzardstar to get closer to the elder. Brokensong held up her tail in the attempt to keep Frostfeather away from the edges of Nightvolt's nest. 

“You still haven't told me what you're doing here,” Blizzardstar ordered, his eyes narrowed as he came to block Frostfeather's advances. She shuffled her paws and tried to claw together a believable excuse. Either way, he was bound to be angry at her.

“I just had a bad dream... I think I might just have had some bad prey. I wanted to see if I could get anything from Brokensong,” she claimed. She hoped that he would believe her. That's not entirely a lie, she tried to convince herself.

“It's best you stay back,” Brokensong murmured, “Nightvolt has developed a fever rather quickly and I'm not quite sure what has caused it.”

Frostfeather's heart pricked with sympathy for the elder. It was always hard for the oldest and youngest of the Clan to get sick, they didn't always recover. “Yes, maybe it would be best for you to return to your den,” Blizzardstar insisted as he started to shoulder Frostfeather away from Nightvolt's nest.

Deep down, she knew she had to obey Blizzardstar. Despite that he was being overly protective, she knew that he would be upset if she caught some kind of sickness being reckless. Before she allowed herself to be herded from the den, she turned to take one last look at the elder's slumped form. But something she saw was enough to make her fur feel as cold as ice.

Are those... bite marks? All over Nightvolt's paws and legs, there were angry red bite marks covered in puss. She flashed back to her vision and thought of the horrible burning sensation she had felt as the shadowy creatures gnawed on her pelt. She stumbled as Blizzardstar once more tried to urge her towards the den entrance. “You can check on Nightvolt after his fever has come down,” he grunted in frustration.

She let Blizzardstar escort her from the den. She could feel dread swamp over her once more. “Just wait, one second please,” she pleaded as he started to pad away, back towards his den.

As he turned around to look at her, she saw urgency flash in his blue eyes. “What is it? Is something wrong?” he asked, his protective demeanor instantly overtook him. Should I really tell him about the dream? He's already so high strung as it is...

“I... I just wanted to ask... who is Lilybloom?” she asked. To her relief, he seemed to relax slightly at her simple question.

“Oh, were the elders telling you about her? Back when BreezeClan were still living in the forest, Lilybloom was their medicine cat. She was actually Spottedrose's mother, meaning that she is your kin,” he explained.

“Oh, I never knew that...” Frostfeather muttered. All she was ever told was that Oakstar was Spottedrose's father. She had never stopped to think who her mother might have been. But, despite her ignorance, her kin still watched over her from StarClan.

“Now that I've answered your question, can you listen to me just this once and return to your nest? You look as if you haven't gotten a wink of sleep,” he demanded, concern thick in his voice.

She dipped her head and meowed softly, “yes, Blizzardstar.” Before she turned to leave, he padded back to her side and brushed his muzzle along her cheek. A weak purr vibrated in his chest.

“You know I just want what's best for you,” he murmured, his voice cracked with emotion. Frostfeather felt herself lean into his soft fur, their white pelts merged together like a blanket of snow.

“I know,” she whispered. After a few more uninterrupted moments, Blizzardstar stepped away and returned to the darkness of his den. Frostfeather stared after him and wished she could confide in him about her dream. But she wasn't sure what it would do to him, with the anxiety he already had. 

“Maybe it really was just a dream,” she muttered as she padded back to the warrior's den. By now, the sun had begun to rise and the other cats had got up for the day's patrols.

“Are you only just now going to sleep?” Hailstorm snorted as he appeared from under the branches of the den.

“I had a bellyache... Blizzardstar told me to return to my nest,” she replied. She didn't want him to scrutinize her, especially now that her mind was weighted with the burden of this strange dream.

“Well, I hope you feel better soon,” he remarked before he turned to go and organize the daily patrols. She was relieved that he didn't question her further. Before anyone else could stop her, she slid back into the stuffy den.

“Where have you been?” Pineheart asked cheekily. Of course he hasn't left his nest yet, she thought to herself.

“Don't worry about it,” she retorted as she started to curl up in her nest. She didn't need to justify herself to him, or any other cat. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and forget all about this stressful dream. 

She heard Pineheart snort, “whatever.”

She tried to ignore him as he blatantly made as much noise as he could getting out of his nest. “I guess I'll just go and catch all the prey in the forest while you're sleeping,” he puffed before he ducked under the den entrance and vanished into the camp. She wanted to yowl after him, but remained silent.

The prey... the prey is no longer safe; she could hear a faint voice in the back of her mind. She wanted to hold on to those words for as long as she could. But she was utterly exhausted, and as fast as she had closed her eyes, she fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.


	6. Chapter Four

Frostfeather had been startled awake, her senses alert. It had been several days since her strange dream, and she still tried her best not to forget. Deep down, she was positive that she wasn't meant to forget. She narrowed her eyes as she gazed around the pitch black den. It must still be dark, the sky would be shrouded and studded with stars if she could see through the thick branches of the den. Then she heard what had woken her.

That sounds like Nightvolt, she thought as a low wail drifted to her ears. The noise didn't seem to have woke any of the other warriors, they were all still fast asleep. With a short sigh, she got to her paws and picked her way out of the den. The air was crisp with cold against her muzzle as she made her way across the camp clearing. With every step, Nightvolt's wails became louder.

Frostfeather poked her white snout into the den, wary of what she may find. “Brokensong, is everything alright?” her tone shook with a frightful tremor. It sounds as though Nightvolt is in a lot of pain, she thought. The medicine cat did not answer right away. After a few moments of silence, Brokensong leaped out of the crevice in the rock and came to stand beside Frostfeather. Her fur was ruffled and covered in shreds of herbs.

“You shouldn't be here,” Brokensong stated abruptly, her tone harsh. Frostfeather flinched at her words, her eyes growing wide. Why shouldn't I be here? A frosty chill swept up her spine, her anxieties flared anew.

“I just wanted to come see what was wrong with Nightvolt...” she explained. It felt like she had been scolded like a troublesome kit.

“Nightvolt is very sick,” Brokensong rasped as she shook her head, “you mustn't get close to him. No one should.” Frostfeather felt completely baffled at what Brokensong had said. Surely Nightvolt hadn't caught greencough?

Suddenly, the elder's distressed wails had changed to an angry growl. The fur all along Frostfeather's back started to stand on end. She glanced at Brokensong and saw that her face was frozen with horror. “What's happening?” Frostfeather asked. She didn't take her eyes off of the one-eyed she-cat.

Without any indication, a dark shape exploded from the mouth of the medicine den. Claws and teeth flashed in the moonlight as the attacker fell upon Brokensong. Its eyes were wild and filled with hate, it seemed like the entire forest was filled with the intense sound of slaughter.

“No! Someone help!” Frostfeather yowled as she attempted to grab a hold of the dark shape on top of Brokensong. At her touch, the face of the attacker turned to look at her. She was shocked to find herself stare into unfocused, crazed yellow eyes. It was Nightvolt.

~~~~~~~~~~

Frostfeather jolted awake for the second time. Her fur was hot and sweaty and it stuck to her skin like a layer of cobweb. Her breaths came in rapid gulps, her heart slammed in her chest. Did that really just happen?

It was still the dead of night as she exited the den for what felt like the second time. But there wasn't even a whisper to disturb the silence. Nothing moved at the mouth of Brokensong's den. Frostfeather felt foolish, to allow herself to become so frightened from a bad dream. You're not a kit anymore, she reminded herself.

Even though she knew that the camp was safe, she was aware that she would not be able to go back to sleep. Her nerves still shook like a leaf trapped in a storm. She wrapped her tail close to her side and sat down in the sparse grass outside the warrior's den. The light cover of snow melted at her touch and made the tips of her paws and tail damp.

With a deep breath, she stared up at the clear night sky. The stars danced with a magnificent light. It helped make her feel just a bit more relaxed after her dreadful dream encounter. She hadn't sat there for long before she eventually did hear something move inside the medicine den. She sat alert and glared hard at the entrance. She hoped she could make something out in the night's darkness. To her relief, it was just Brokensong.

As the brown and black she-cat gracefully leaped out of the entrance, Frostfeather trotted over to greet her. “Hey Brokensong! I thought I would have been the only one awake at this time of night,” she purred. As Frostfeather looked closer at the medicine cat's features, she noticed that her face was creased with worry. This made Frostfeather's stomach clench with foreboding.

“Yes, it is rather late. I just had a bad dream and was hoping to get some air,” she mumbled. Frostfeather noticed her ruffled fur and the twitch of her tail at every small sound from out in the forest. Brokensong didn't scare easily, whatever must have startled her must have been serious. I'm sure my worries are nothing compared to hers, she told herself.

But now Brokensong had turned her attention to Frostfeather. She tilted her head slightly and her nostrils flared as she took a sharp intake of breath. “What brings you out so late?” she inquired. Inwardly, Frostfeather wondered just how much she should explain to her. After all, it had been a rather troubling dream. And it had involved Brokensong, as she was slaughtered by Nightvolt.

“I also had a bad dream,” she replied. But it did really feel like it was actually happening, like it wasn't a dream, she recalled. The stench of blood still lingered in her nose. Her heart skipped with terror as a flash of psychotic yellow eyes filled her mind.

“What kind of bad dream?” Brokensong insisted. Frostfeather was surprised to find her voice tinged with curiosity. Maybe I should tell her about the dream.

“Well... it started out that I heard Nightvolt in your den. He sounded very distressed and in pain, so I came out to come and check things out,” she began, “as I got closer, you came out to meet me. You told me that I shouldn't be there, and that I mustn't get close to him.”

Brokensong had grown very still while Frostfeather retold the events of her dream. Her eyes were wide and serious as she continued. “All of a sudden, I could hear growling and then Nightvolt attacked you!” She could feel her heart start to race faster as she got to the worst part of her nightmare. She could remember so vividly, the flash of his claws as he tore at Brokensong. The harsh yellow venom of his eyes filled her vision as he whirled around to gaze into her stunned face.

“I think we need to consult Blizzardstar,” Brokensong stated simply, her voice low. Frostfeather held back a gasp. Blizzardstar didn't have time to soothe her from her nightmares. She was a warrior, and that meant that she shouldn't run to her father every time she was frightened.

“What? Why would we need to tell him about some nightmare I had?” she asked, baffled. Brokensong had a very distressed look on her face, her eyes darted around the clearing as she turned to pad to Blizzardstar's den. She's hiding something from me, she deduced after a few moments of icy silence.

“We should tell him because I had almost the exact same dream. The only difference is that instead of me being attacked, I saw my old mentor, Tinypool. She told me that I needed to escape, and that we couldn't be here. That was right before Nightvolt ripped her throat out...” her voice cracked on the last couple of words. Her eyes reflected immense pain and sadness. Frostfeather knew that Brokensong still cared for her old, dead mentor. So that's why she's acting so spooked, Frostfeather reflected. 

“What do you think that means?” Frostfeather wondered as she started to follow Brokensong to her father's den. The night was still enveloped in a eerie calm. Crickets chirped from their perches in the foliage that surrounded the camp.

“I'm not sure,” she whispered, “but I do know that whatever will happen, it will be at the paws of Nightvolt.”

Frostfeather shuffled her paws. She wondered how it was possible for an elder to cause any kind of harm. All her life, Nightvolt never seemed to cause trouble. She had heard stories about when he was a BreezeClan cat, but that was many moons ago. Nightvolt is an IceClan cat now, she thought, surely he wouldn't want to hurt us?

Brokensong stood at the tall hole in the rotten, toppled tree trunk that Blizzardstar called his den. With a soft meow, she padded through the entrance and vanished from sight. Frostfeather hesitated before she also padded inside, not sure of what she would say to Blizzardstar about her dream. This is just all so strange.

“Welcome, Frostfeather,” he purred as she came to sit beside Brokensong in front of him. “Brokensong seems to think that you two may have shared a prophesied dream,” he remarked. His eyes were gentle, perhaps hoping to ease her visible anxiety. 

She opened her mouth to reply, but only nodded her head. It felt awkward to talk to him about this strange matter. “Yes, we both had a dream that Nightvolt turned savage and attacked,” Brokensong cut in. She must have realized that Frostfeather was reluctant to speak in the stern presence of her father.

“Nightvolt turning savage? But the forest has been peaceful for so long. I don't think that even he would want to break the serenity,” Blizzardstar grunted. He turned to Frostfeather, his blue eyes narrowed in thought. “Is this really what you saw in your dream?” he demanded. He almost sounded displeased, like they might be making it up.

“Yes,” she admitted. Her voice came out like a squeak, wound tight from her increased anxiety. Blizzardstar's features softened once more. He must have noticed how much this nightmare had effected his daughter.

He turned back to Brokensong, “what do you think this dream means?”

To Frostfeather's dismay, all Brokensong did was shrug. “I can not be sure what this dream means,” she meowed softly, “all I am certain of is that Nightvolt could be dangerous.”

“I could never imagine that one of our elders would be dangerous. But I can't deny that your dreams were not a coincidence,” Blizzardstar remarked. 

Brokensong lifted up a paw and pointed to her missing eye, “I know that all BreezeClan cats were once dangerous,” she hissed. Her abrupt change of tone shocked Frostfeather. Had a BreezeClan cat been the cause of Brokensong's missing eye?

Blizzardstar gasped with shock at his medicine cat. “We are all IceClan now! I will not listen to these mousebrained ramblings about my warriors,” he growled, “now, go back to your dens and get some rest. You both must have had some crowfood to have had such wild dreams.”

Frostfeather's jaw dropped. Wild dreams? He had just said that hey clearly couldn't have been a coincidence! She looked desperately to Brokensong in the hopes she would object. The medicine cat's eye glittered with rage, but she didn't think it was about his comment towards their dreams.

“Those BreezeClan cats would have been better off dead in the forest,” she snarled over her shoulder before she whirled around and exited the den. Frostfeather was left alone with her father. She could see that her father's whiskers quivered with rage.

“Why would Brokensong say those things about our Clanmates?” she asked, her voice thick with confusion. Blizzardstar turned away from her to face the back of his den. It felt like a wall of ice had formed between them.

“Brokensong has had a lot of misfortune at the paws of BreezeClan cats,” he explained, “she lets her anger control her.”

“But...” Frostfeather began to object. She had never known Brokensong to have anger. There seemed to be a lot that Frostfeather didn't know about her Clanmates. But Blizzardstar held up his tail for silence. He turned back towards her, his blue eyes dark with untold secrets that swam just beneath the surface. “Just go back to your nest. I'm positive that Nightvolt is not a threat,” he soothed, his face an emotionless mask.

She knew there was no point to try and argue. StarClan would need to wait a bit longer before she could attempt to convince him to leave the forest. Frostfeather dipped her head and turned to leave. As she padded out of Blizzardstar's den and crossed the clearing, she could hear a faint voice in the medicine den.

“But my head just won't stop hurting,” the male voice complained. That's Nightvolt.

“Just take this ginger leaf and go back to sleep,” that was Brokensong's soft feminine tone. Her earlier aggression had evaporated. She sounded like the same gentle medicine cat that Frostfeather had known her to be.

Everything sounds normal, she decided before she picked up her pace and pushed her way back under the warrior den's sweeping branches. She glanced at all of her Clanmates as they slept around her. The familiarity of her home helped to soothe her anxieties. And everything will stay normal, I hope.


	7. Chapter Five

A few days passed after Frostfeather's chaotic dream. She made an effort to stay away from the vicinity of Brokensong's den, afraid that at any moment Nightvolt would leap out and attack her. She knew her irrational thoughts were silly. If only she could get the image of his crazed, yellow eyes out of her head.

She had left camp early, like she did almost every morning. As usual, not a single soul stirred as she slid through the camp entrance and ran out into the pine forest that surrounded her home. The icy breeze combed through her fur and sent shivers down her spine. She ran for some time before a familiar voice called out behind her.

"Frostfeather!" She jumped and turned around, her hackles raised. Amused green eyes met her gaze as a calico approached. What is Sweetmind doing out here?

"You don't have to be so jumpy! It's just us," Sweetmind purred. Her tail flicked to and fro as she padded closer to Frostfeather. Her fur still smelled of the musty moss of her nest. She must have followed Frostfeather after she had left camp.

"I'm not jumpy!" she snapped. She felt foolish that she let Sweetmind frighten her so easily. "I didn't even see anyone else leave camp," she pointed out. Sweetmind's eyes flashed playfully as she neared.

"You sure seem pretty jumpy," a different she-cat teased as she came to stand beside her companion. Appleleaf is here too, she thought in frustration. They stood so close, their pelts touched. Spotted calico merged with cream and brown striped fur. Of course the two sisters had left together. They were nearly inseparable.

"What are you two even doing out her anyways?" Frostfeather grumbled. She had hoped to have been able to hunt in peace, but that would be impossible while they hung around. They'd rather goof off than actually do something productive.

"We just wanted to go out on our own. Just like you do all the time," Appleleaf mewed as she shook out her cream colored fur. Sweetmind rolled her eyes at Frostfeather's ill tempered question. 

Frostfeather flattened her ears, clearly irritated. "Well you aren't on your own if you're pestering me," she hissed. She whirled around and bounded away over the needle strewn snow. How annoying can they be, she grumbled.

The soft patter of pawsteps from behind told her that she was being followed. "Just leave me alone!" she growled. With a glance over her shoulder, she glimpsed a calico pelt. Sweetmind's scent still lingered in the air.

Why won't she leave me alone, she fumed. Now she had had enough! Frostfeather turned and reared back on her hind paws, ready to swipe at Sweetmind's muzzle. But she was surprised to find this was not Sweetmind. She had such lush, leafy green eyes; these were the color of sky, bright and blue down to their very depths.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" she asked, her voice soft. Starlight shimmered across her calico patches, quite like the strands of Silverpelt in the darkest night.

"I'm tired of surprises today!" Frostfeather snapped. Disappointment washed across Spottedrose's face. Spottedrose knew it wasn't the StarClan cat's fault, but her nerves were still frayed from her tedious omens.

"Well it's not every day that I get a chance to see you," Spottedrose countered. Inside, Frostfeather was happy to see her. But her absence from her life thus far made it hard to be appreciative of her presence.

I never thought Spottedrose would be able to walk with me outside of my dreams, Frostfeather thought, I should be happy to see her.

"Are you going to try and convince me that we should leave the forest? You should just tell Blizzardstar or Brokensong, I'm just a warrior," she insisted, feeling her anxiety creep back over her fur. His rejection still stung like the hottest bee sting. "He didn't want to listen to me anyways."

"No! You must convince them! Their lives depend on it," Spottedrose demanded. Her expression grew serious as she looked down on her daughter. "I know it will be hard. But time is running short. When the sun casts its shadow, your time for safety will have run out."

Frostfeather tried to gather her thoughts. So much depended on her, what could she possibly do to convince her Clan to leave the forest? With Blizzardstar in denial, it seemed impossible. She pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind. After a moment, she noticed that Spottedrose had faded into the wind. 

She looked around frantically. She hoped she could have just spotted her one more time. She's gone, she thought wretchedly. I didn't even get to tell her that I miss her... why must she bring me such terrible omens?

It would be pointless to try and hunt now. Not with that strange encounter still so fresh in her memory. She made slow progress back to camp. She didn't return until shortly before sunhigh. She hadn't realized how much time had passed while she wandered the forest. Blizzardstar approached quickly as she padded through the entrance.

"I'm not here to argue. Just come with me back to my den. We need to talk," Blizzardstar huffed. He didn't allow Frostfeather any time to speak before he turned and bounded back to his den. She sighed and followed. She half expected to be scolded for her leaving camp so early. As she slid into the safety of the hollow tree behind her father, he turned to look at her seriously.

"I need you to tell me the truth," he began, "did you really share dreams with Brokensong?" She could feel her tail as it twitched behind her. This is what she was waiting for! Now she could tell him about her strange dreams...

"Yes, we had the same dream that night. But that's not the only strange dream I've had lately," she murmured. Reluctantly, she told Blizzardstar about her first dream, with Spottedrose and Lilybloom. She carried on to explain her vision in the forest earlier that morning. They all carried the ominous warning, that the forest was no longer safe.

At the mention of her mother, Blizzardstar's expression went blank. After she retold the events of that morning, the silence lengthened between them. 

"Blizzardstar?" she mewed, desperation pricked in her voice. She needed him to tell her what they should do.

"Maybe you should just take it a bit easy on patrols the next couple of days," he decided finally after a lengthy pause. "Surely you've been stressing over your warrior obligations."

Frostfeather couldn't believe her ears, that he would push her way again, like a kit with a nightmare! "But, Blizzardstar!" she gasped, her eyes wide as he started to usher her back out of the den.

"There's no need to worry," he meowed hastily as they padded back out into the camp, "if something bad were about to happen, StarClan would tell me."

I'm not so sure, she thought regretfully as she let him herd her back towards the warrior's den. If they were going to tell you, they would have done it already. "As your leader, I am commanding you to rest in camp for the next couple of days. I'm sure Wildflight and the other elder's would be happy for your company."

Without even a chance to respond, Blizzardstar turned and left her by herself at the entrance to the warrior's den. She stared after him as he receded back into the darkness of his den. She felt completely dumb founded. He had acted like he would finally take her seriously, only to push her away at the first mention of Spottedrose.

Oh, StarClan... why have you given me such an impossible task?


	8. Chapter Six

Pineheart stared out into the camp clearing from the safety of the warrior's den. He had been awoken by loud, panicked voices that drifted through the branches.

"What's happening?"

"Where'd the sun go?"

The sun? It should be in the middle of the sky by now, he thought. He had patrolled earlier in the morning but had returned to his nest for a nap upon his return. Maybe the sun was just hidden behind the branches of the pine trees? There's no way the sun could actually be gone.

He noticed as he left the den that the sky was, indeed, dark. The camp clearing was veiled in sinister shadows. All of his Clanmates had clustered together near the camp wall. They spoke urgently or glanced up through the trees to look at the black sky. He scurried over to join them, his black tail raised in curiosity.

"Everyone must calm down," Blizzardstar demanded as he pushed his way into the center of the crowd, "wherever the sun has gone, it will return!" Pineheart could detect a note of worry in his voice. Could something more serious be happening?

Pineheart searched for his sister's white pelt among the other warriors. As he lay his eyes on her, he noticed her face was overcome with horror. What's wrong with her? She looked rigid, completely frozen as her Clanmates clustered around her. He tried to catch her attention but it was hopeless.

Foxstreak suddenly pressed close to his side. He hadn't noticed her approach. "I wonder why the sun has dissapeared?" Foxstreak wondered, her voice soft in his ear. He turned to look at her and noticed that her face reflected the same terror as Frostfeather. But what could have frightened them?

"Blizzardstar doesn't seem too concerned," Pineheart commented, his voice low. Most of the other cats were still caught up in their conversations or glanced up in the hopes to see the sun reappear. But it would not show its brilliant face in the sky, not yet.

Brokensong called out from her spot near the edge of the clamor, "StarClan may just be trying to send us a message! There is no need to assume that the sun is gone forever!" StarClan. Yes, that could be it. Maybe StarClan was just sending them a message. But what sort of message warranted the disappearance of the sun?

Pineaheart noticed Blizzardstar toss his medicine cat an odd look. Was he in doubt that this may be a message from StarClan? What else could it be? 

Hailstorm stepped forward to address the Clan, his black and silver fur sleek and undisturbed. "We should carry on as normal for now. The apprentices can escort the elders to their den and make sure they're comfortable. Quietstorm, you will lead a patrol to check the borders." His resolute attitude helped to calm the Clan's worries.

The white and black splotched she-cat dipped her head and turned to pick the other members of her patrol. "Foxstreak, you will lead a hunting patrol," he continued as he turned his attention to the orange tabby.

She nudged Pineheart with her shoulder. "Do you want to join my patrol?" she asked. He shook his head. He still felt exhausted, despite his early nap. He wasn't sure he would even be able to catch any prey. He was never really adept in hunting in darkness.

"Maybe next time," he replied. She didn't seem to be disappointed this time in his refusal. She could probably see the tiredness that still lingered in his eyes.

Foxstreak bounded towards the large group of warriors. She called out for anyone who may want to join her hunting patrol. Quietstorm had started to lead her patrol out of the camp entrance; Sootsplash, Meadowshine, and Appleleaf on her tail. 

Blizzardstar had broken away from his warriors as he retreated towards his den. Frostfeather and Brokensong were directly behind him. Even from here, he could scent their fear that clung to their fur. Pineheart stared after them, curious as to what was going on between them. What's so important that I can't be involved? 

"Come on, Redfern! We're going to make you a nice, fluffy nest!"

Pineheart turned as he heard Lionpaw's elated voice. The russet apprentice bounced vigorously around the three elders. She didn't seem bothered in the slightest about the sun's absence. He couldn't help but purr at her resilience.

"Just don't tread on my tail," Wildflight chimed as they vanished under the low hanging branches of the elder's den. The clearing was almost deserted, except for a couple warriors who had gone to lay near the camp barrier. Pineheart turned his attention to Shimmerpaw, who sat close to Elkleap's side. 

"Maybe you can take Nightvolt a mouse in the medicine den," Elkleap offered his apprentice, "I'm sure he'd be greatful for it."

The excitement had passed, the life of the Clan continued to carry on as normal. Foxstreak exited the camp and the head of her patrol, which only consisted of herself, Aspenclaw, and Smallfire. He sent out a silent prayer to StarClan that they would manage to find some fresh kill out in the shadowed pine forest.

Pineheart caught Elkleap's attention as he turned to pad away. Pineheart lifed his tail and waved him over, a friendly expression across his face. "Today's been such an odd day," he observed as Elkleap sat at his side. The black tom watched Shimmerpaw pluck a mouse from the freshkill pile and trot into the medicine cat den. "I hope whatever StarClan is trying to tell us isn't horrible," he muttered.

Elkleap was about to reply, but he was cut short when a panicked yowl erupted from the depths of the medicine den. Pineheart flinched, his eyes wide. "Shimmerpaw!" Elkleap yowled as he charged towards the den entrance. 

Pineheart was right behind him, his tufty fur even more spiked than usual. He almost crashed into Elkleap as he stopped abruptly inside the split rock. Pineheart was completely baffled at what he saw. A few paces away, Nightvolt had Shimmerpaw's throat clamped firmly in his jaws. His yellow eyes glinted with madness, his ears flat against his head. "Let her go!" Elkleap wailed, his breath rasped out in shallow gasps.

Nightvolt did not respond. A high pitched growl droned deep in his chest. His eyes flicked between Elkleap and Pineheart. After only a short moment, Brokensong slammed into the back of Pineheart's haunches, her scent thick with anxiety.

'What's happening?!" she demanded as she tried to push passed the two toms. He could see the glint of Nightvolt's unsheathed claws as he scraped them across the rock floor of the medicine den. There wasn't time to reply. Nightvolt had released his death grip on the apprentice and had leaped straight towards them!

Pineheart summoned all of his courage and jumped forward. He crashed into the elder, surprised at the strength he felt under his unkempt pelt. "You need to stop, Nightvolt!" he growled as he sunk claws into his shoulder. He tried to push him down onto the dirt covered floor, but it was anything but easy. The elder seemed to have gained some sort of unnatural strength.

Elkleap slid around the toms as they fought and rushed to Shimmerpaw's side. Brokensong was frozen at the entrance, her good eye round with disbelief. "Don't just stand there!" Pineheart gasped, "do something!" He struggled to subdue the savage elder, his energy depleted.

Nightvolt surged forward with enough wild strength to throw Pineheart off. He landed with a thud a couple of rabbit hops away. Pineheart expected to have to fend off the crazed elder, but he saw that he had turned his attention to Brokensong.

His shoulders were hunched and his tail twitched along the ground behind him. "I will kill you," he rasped, "just like I killed Stormsurge, and Webpelt, and Quickwater..." his voice sounded foreign, unlike they had ever heard before. Pineheart wondered who those cats were. Maybe some of his ancestors who had lived during the time when IceClan and BreezeClan were in constant war.

"You don't need to kill us, Nightvolt. There's no reason to fight," Brokensong soothed. Her typical silky voice cracked with tension. The gray tabby elder cast his gaze to his paws. A soft whimper escaped his parted jaws.

"But... but I will kill you! All of you... the forest isn't safe for IceClan anymore!" he yowled. He threw himself at the medicine cat in a fit of rage. Faster than a hawk that dove from the sky, Pineheart launched himself between them. He slashed with outstretched claws and took a chunk out of Nightvolt's chest. Blood spurted from the wound, thickening to a steady, red stream. The elder collapsed as his voice bubbled in his throat.

"This isn't over," he gasped, "you will never be safe." Pineheart watched in shocked silence as he bled out on the den floor. The life faded from his eyes, never to return.

Brokensong had not moved, her sides barely twitched as she panted in panic. "He's dead," Pineheart whispered. His heart thumped frantically in his chest, the adrenaline still thick in his veins. How quickly it had all happened, and now Nightvolt was dead.

Pineheart heard Elkleap wail at Shimmerpaw's side. He looked over to see his head and shoulders hunched as he nosed her bloody fur. "You can't be dead," he whimpered, "I promised Meadowshine I'd train you to be the best warrior."

Pineheart crept to his side, emotionally battered after his frightening encounter with Nightvolt. He looked down at Shimmerpaw's dusky, gray fur. It was completely spattered with blood, almost unrecognizable. The mouse she had carried was tossed carelessly down at her side.

"I'm sorry, Elkleap," Pineheart murmured. He could feel the senior warrior as he shook beside him, soft whimpers still punctuated his sobs.

"We need to go out there and tell them what happened," Brokensong's voice called from near the den entrance. She had come out of her trance, but her scent was still rank with terror.

"I'll carry her," Elkleap whispered as he gently picked up the apprentice by her scruff. Pineheart watched as he carried her out. His brown and black striped tail trailed on the ground behind him. Pineheart started to follow, but Brokensong held up her tail for him to wait.

"Troubling times are coming," she insisted as soon as Elkleap was out of sight. Troubling times? What is that supposed to mean?

Pineheart gaped at her, confused. "Do you know why Nightvolt would do something like this?" he questioned her. It appeared she knew more than she was letting on.

"We will not longer be safe..." she fretted.  A far away look entered her eyes as she recited the words, her pelt spiked and her tail tip twitching. Pineheart took this moment to slide out of the den. He felt insanely uncomfortable with what she had just said to him.

But what she had said was true. If their Clanmates no longer feared to kill one another, how could they ever be safe?


	9. Chapter Seven

"Woah, is that Shimmerpaw?!" Blizzardstar shouted. Frostfeather turned her head to see who he saw. Elkleap had Shimmerpaw's scruff between his teeth as he carried her from the medicine den. Her throat was torn and her fur drenched in blood. In the minutes that she, Brokensong, and Blizzardstar had stepped away to talk, the sun had returned. It shined in the sky once more, back to normal. But things were far from normal.

Blizzardstar got to his feet in an instant and streaked over to Elkleap's side. "What happened? Where's Brokensong?" His voice was thick with disbelief and dismay.

He glanced back at the den entrance as Pinheart emerged. He dragged the limp body of Nightvolt behind him. Frostfeather noticed that her brother also carried injuries, his pelt scratched and spotted with blood. Brokensong came last. Her expression was blank, emotionless.

Frostfeather joined them, her fur spiked all along her spine. The few warriors that had stayed in camp must have smelled the tang of split blood; they started to gather in a ragged circle to see what had happened.

Lionpaw had come out of the elder's den and stared in shock at the body of her sister. This is really bad, Frostfeather thought as she looked at Shimmerpaw's mangled corpse. Pineheart had placed Nightvolt on the ground, the elder's wounds equally as hideous.

"What happened?" Blizzardstar asked again, his voice tinged with sadness.

Frostfeather noticed Pineheart glance at Elkleap, but the senior warrior just stared down at the lifeless body of his apprentice. She had never seen him look so haunted. Instead, Brokensong stepped forward.

"It was Nightvolt. He... he went mad!" she wailed. She paused to take a breath, her tail tip flicked once. "We heard Shimmerpaw's yowl, and when we entered he had already killed her!"

Frostfeather shuddered as her dreams surged back to the front of her mind. Nightvolt had been dangerous, but it wasn't Brokensong who he had caught in his grasp. No, it was Shimmerpaw. 

"He was just as evil... just as ruthless as when he killed Webstripe, and Stormsurge, and Quickwater. I could see it, in his face," Brokensong explained, her voice strained. Never would Frostfeather had imagined that Nightvolt could have slain so many cats.

"But Nightvolt was a loyal warrior. Things have changed since the Great Battle," Blizzardstar murmured. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than the others. She could feel the same regret that burned in her heart. If she could have convinced him, Shimmerpaw might still be alive.

Weaseltail had padded forward to stand beside Brokensong. He looked down at her with concern, "I believe Brokensong. Before he had gotten sick, Pineheart and I found him out in the forest. He said things that make me believe he still felt like a BreezeClan warrior," he reasoned. 

Frostfeather wasn't aware that the elder had been feeling such split loyalty. Maybe that would explain why he went crazy and attacked Shimmerpaw. The other Clan cats had inched come forward to sit in vigil for the two dead cats, as was tradition for all fallen Clanmates.

Brokensong caught the eyes of Frotstfeather, Pineheart, and Blizzardstar, a silent order for them to follow her into her den. The three cats padded after her as they left the others behind to start their vigil. Lionpaw's anguished wail followed them into the confines of Brokensong's den. 

As soon as they were alone, Brokensong started to speak. "I don't think we can ignore these signs any longer," she asserted, "all of this is no mere coincidence." Frostfeather noticed the fresh blood that still streaked the ground. The stench made her toes curl with disgust.

Frostfeather unsheathed her claws as fresh anxiety rolled across her fur. This is it, we are finally going to decide what to do "I don't know how you think Nightvolt getting sick and going crazy isn't coincidence. Cats get sick all the time," Blizzardstar dismissed her stubbornly. Oh great, here he goes again, she thought in frustration.

Frostfeather could feel Pineheart as he trembled beside her, clearly still shaken from what he had seen. She pressed against him, greatful for his warmth against her chilly pelt. Despite her closeness, he still shook with barely concealed anxiety.

"No, Blizzardstar. The sun was a sign. StarClan are telling us that this forest in which we live is no longer predictable," Brokensong urged, her tone serious. The disappearance of the sun brought death and despair to IceClan.

Pineheart finally spoke up, "but it wasn't just that... right before Nightvolt died, he told me... that this wasn't over. He said we would never be safe." Frostfeather flinched as she remembered what Spottedrose had told her only a few sunrises ago. 

"Well what am I supposed to do?" Blizzardstar huffed in exasperation. Frostfeather swallowed hard, this is my chance! 

"I think we should leave the forest," she asserted. The other cats looked at her, trying to process what she had just said. "I think the sickness is what made Nightvolt crazy... and if it's something he caught out there, we should try and get away from it," she continued. She felt so much more sure of her suspicions than ever before.

"I think she's right," Brokensong agreed, "his condition was getting steadily worse. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to save him." Blizzardstar bowed his head, finally accepting what his medicine cat was telling him. Sweet relief overwhelmed her.

"I guess you were right," he conceded, "but you can't ask me to leave my home... this is where Spottedrose is buried. And Snowpuddle... and Darkrose. I can't just leave them behind."

"But you'd leave us behind?" Pineheart asked, his voice tense with emotion. 

He didn't reply at first. He just kept his white head bowed in concentration. "No, I couldn't... I couldn't leave you two."

Brokensong shuffled her paws, clearly uncomfortable at being caught between the father and his kits. "Maybe we could visit the Firestone. Neither of us have been there to speak with our ancestors in many moons," she offered.

Frostfeather jumped as she heard fresh voices in the clearing. The patrols must have finally returned. She wondered how long they had spent inside the den while the others kept vigil. It had felt like mere moments, but her paws ached from standing on the hard rock floor. Blizzardstar snapped out of his trance and strode to the entrance, peeking out at the returning warriors.

"Yes, we can take a visit to the Firestone tonight. For now, I will go and comfort the Clan," Blizzardstar meowed, fresh sadness pricked in his voice as he looked out at his two fallen Clanmates. The cats who returned already gathered around their bodies.

"StarClan will tell us what to do," Brokensong meowed determinedly as she followed her leader out of the den. Frostfeather was still leaning into Pineheart's side, feeling like she could just melt into the den floor. She didn't want to break away, to lose the comfort of his presence beside her.

He finally believes me, she thought with relief. She pulled back and looked into Pineheart's face, noticing that he was completely lost in his own thoughts. 

"You can always talk to me about what happened," she whispered, pressing her muzzle into his cheek. She heard him take a deep breath. She hoped for a moment that he was going to open up to her. But just as she had hid things from him, he must have felt this was something he should bear alone.

"Thanks, Frostfeather," he purred weakly as he turned and leaped out of the den. She looked down at her paws, noticing that the streaks of blood had hardened into red scabs across the den floor. 

"I wonder if any of our other Clanmates will fall ill before this is all over," she wondered aloud before she also turned and finally leaped out of the den to join her Clan in vigil for Shimmerpaw and Nightvolt.


	10. Chapter Eight

“We should leave at once,” Blizzardstar insisted to his companions. Frostfeather looked over at her Clan, who had huddled around the cold bodies of Shimmerpaw and Nightvolt. It felt so wrong to be leaving them during the vigil, but their lives could depend on this small journey.

“Yes, we can leave now,” Brokensong agreed, flicking her tail for Blizzardstar and Frostfeather to follow her out of the camp. It was almost dusk, nearly time for the Firestone to awaken for their nightly encounter.

Blizzardstar broke away for a moment to speak to Hailstorm before their departure. “Will they be alright while we are gone?” Frostfeather asked as he returned. Their peaceful existence had been shattered, and it would cause ripples throughout the Clan for moons to come.

“As alright as they can be. Meadowshine and Sootsplash will grieve the loss of Shimmerpaw for some time,” Blizzardstar murmured as they pushed their way out through the camp entrance. She couldn't imagine how the two parents must feel, to bury their daughter. Frostfeather shook out her fur, wondering how she would feel if Pineheart or Blizzardstar were to die. She couldn't imagine what sort of future Lionpaw would face without her sister.

“Stop daydreaming! We need to be quick if we want to make it in time,” Brokensong chided as she picked up the pace to a run. Blizzardstar sped after her, with Frostfeather close behind. Urgency lent speed to paws as they embarked on the path to the Firestone.

There was no time for words as they traveled, not when the sun was steadily sliding behind the massive mountain ahead of them. As they approached, the snowy grass had changed to a sleek, rocky surface. The summit was steep, almost too slippery for them to gain a claw hold.

“Over here is an easier spot.” Blizzardstar indicated with his paw to a tumble of rocks a little further along the base of the mountain. 

Brokensong didn't hesitate. She threw herself at the stones and started to claw her way up the side of the facade. Blizzardstar took a deep breath and leaped after her. His tail stuck straight out as he tried to keep his balance.

Frostfeather waited for a couple moments. Her thoughts started to wander. But the wind had become more intense as it whipped at her ears and whiskers. “Don't fall too far behind!” Blizzardstar yowled back at her.

She looked up and felt sick as she saw her father many foxlengths up the crumbling mountainside. With a quick gulp of fresh air, she sprang as far as she could onto the unstable rocks. She almost lost her footing, but she scrabbled at the loose pebbles until she came to stand beside Blizzardstar on a narrow ledge.

“The worst part is over,” he soothed as they continued to pad carefully along the rocky outcrop. Brokensong was a good deal ahead. Her tail tip flicked with urgency as she bounced further and further along the path.

“I can't even remember the last time I was here,” Blizzardstar meowed. He hoped Frostfeather could hear him over the intense gusts of the wind. “We haven't had a need to share with StarClan, until now.”

Frostfeather swallowed hard. She felt some sort of foreboding tug at her paws. Until now, things had been peaceful. But now we are no longer safe, the words that Spottedrose had said rang in her ears like a lone hawk's cry.

“Hurry! I can see the cave!” Brokensong yowled as she bunched her muscles and took a flying leap towards a dark hole embedded into the mountain.

“Let's get a move on,” Blizzardstar grunted as he ran and pushed off to jump into the cave. Frostfeather followed him into the cavern, relieved as the wind died down behind her. The grotto was eerily quiet and dark.

“Come forward. We mustn't keep them waiting,” Brokensong chirped as she waved Blizzardstar and Frostfeather forward. It was so hard to see, she almost bumped right into the massive opal vein that crossed the wall like a stubborn vine of ivy.

“Now, press your nose against the stone and close your eyes,” Brokensong whispered as she settled down next to the stone. As Frostfeather closed her eyes, a beam of moonlight flashed into the cavern and sent the opal shimmering like a sea of flames.

She almost cried out in shock, but was immediately pulled into a deep sleep. She fought to open her tired eyes and blinked them open to find a grassy clearing. It looked to be deserted, with no indication that anyone was here waiting for them.

“We're too late!” Brokensong groaned next to Frostfeather. Her brown and black tail flicked in agitation. Blizzardstar was about to agree, when two familiar pelts started hurrying towards them from out of the tall grass.

“Is that... Nightvolt?” Blizzardstar asked in disbelief. He was clearly taken aback by the elder's presence.

“Yes! And that's Shimmerpaw!” Frostfeather meowed excitedly.

“What are you guys doing here?” Shimmerpaw asked as she skidded to a halt next to the three dreaming cats. Her pelt was no longer torn or drenched with blood. She looked almost happy, while Nightvolt shined with health.

“We came to ask StarClan for guidance,” Brokensong explained, “we fear the forest is no longer safe.”

“Of course it's not!” Nightvolt snorted, “a sickness is plaguing these lands. Right before the sun dissapeared, I could feel a sort of evil hold taking over me. I couldn't control myself, all I felt was an unimaginable rage.” 

Frostfeather flicked her tail uncomfortably, this sickness sounded very serious. If it brought its host into an uncontrollable rage, everyone could be a threat. “All sickness can be treated with herbs,” Blizzardstar pointed out matter-of-factly.

Nightvolt shook his head. “No herbs can cure this disease. It is absolutely fatal to any cat infected, and to the cats that are around them.” 

“What are we supposed to do then?” Blizzardstar asked hopelessly. Frostfeather watched as Shimmerpaw and Nightvolt exchanged a knowing glance.

A strange scent started to drift over the cats, carried by the breeze through the star studded trees. The silence seemed to go on for an eternity before Shimmerpaw finally spoke. “You must leave.”

“Yes, it is time for IceClan to leave the forest,” Nightvolt agreed, “StarClan knows what is to come. They have started their journey on to clearer skies.”

Frostfeather noticed her father stricken with shock. “StarClan have left?” he asked, his voice came out in a startled squeak. That means that StarClan had left, regardless if their Clanmates were following them.

“Yes, we were just leaving to catch up with them now. Hopefully there aren't any other interruptions. They want to make sure they find a safe place for you to all live, over the mountain and to the south,” Nightvolt meowed. He flicked his tail over Shimmerpaw's back and ruffled her fur. 

“Thank you for this information,” Brokensong mewed diplomatically as she bent to touch noses with Shimmerpaw and Nightvolt in turn. “We will leave as soon as we can. I know we will make it, with StarClan to guide us.”

Frostfeather padded forward to also touch noses with her old Clanmates. Grief threatened to overwhelm her, but she knew she must be strong. “I'll tell Lionpaw that you're okay,” she whispered as she brushed muzzles with Shimmerpaw.

But as she pulled back, the StarClan apprentice was gone. The clearing was empty but filled with a horrible, deafening howl. It was so loud, it made Frostfeather's ears ring. She blinked her eyes to find herself back in the cavern of the Firestone.

She felt her pelt prickle as another howl split the silence in her waking world. “Is that wolves?” Brokensong asked warily. Her good eye flashed in the darkness.

Blizzardstar instantly stood and bounded to the mouth of the cave. He looked out over the rolling hills and valleys towards the pine forest. “It sounds like it's coming from camp,” he gasped before he leaped out and down the side of the mountain.

“Oh no,” Frostfeather murmured as she followed Brokensong out of the safety of the hollow. They didn't take any precautions as they embarked down the mountainside. They needed to get back to camp as quickly as possible.


	11. Chapter Nine

Blizzardstar propelled himself down the side of the cliff face. He wasn't sure if his paws connected to any of the rock on his path downward. But his safety wasn't really important to him, more so the safety of his Clanmates who had remained back in camp.

“Be careful!” Brokensong yowled after him, still several fox lengths behind. But there wasn't any time to be careful! He had seen something horrible after his vision with StarClan. Something evil filled with death and blood. The thought made him frantic as he hurtled himself across the grassy, snow laden field at the foot of the mountain. He still had to run through the valley, but he could almost smell the musty scent of the pine forest.

But there was another smell, absolutely putrid with the unmistakable tang of sickness and infection. Blizzardstar looked down to see the large prints of a predator trailing across the snow in the same direction he was headed. These are the tracks of a wolf, he thought as he continued to streak towards IceClan territory. He could hear Brokensong and Frostfeather as they yowled after him, but he couldn't stop. Not when his Clanmates were in danger.

The trees started to blur at his sides as he burst through the tree line. Ferns and branches whipped his muzzle, his eyes watered. As he got closer, he could finally hear a faint noise. It was a pitiful wail, coming directly from camp. He could hear his companions as they crashed through the undergrowth. It was absolutely silent as they neared their home. 

Blizzardstar almost recoiled as soon as he saw what lay in wait for him in his camp. Bodies lay strewn across the clearing, tattered and lifeless. He noticed Hailstorm, hunched over the body of Quietstorm. He rushed over and tried not to focus on the lifeless eyes of his Clanmates, scattered across the scant grass. “What happened?” he croaked. Immense grief washed over him like a choking wave.

Hailstorm jumped at his voice. He whirled around, ready to lash out. “Oh, its you... I was afraid it had come back to finish the rest of us..” he explained. Blizzardstar noticed in horror that the brown and black tom's pelt was covered in cuts and bite marks. It looked like he had tried to apply cobwebs to his wounds, but they were amateur at best.

Brokensong was at his side in a flash, her one green eye wide in disbelief. “I'll start tending to the wounded,” she mewed before she rushed to her den.

Blizzardstar turned his gaze from Quietstorm's mangled corpse to take in the devastation around the camp. All the dens, except for the solid rock of the medicine den, were destroyed. Only a few cats clung to the shadows at the edge of the camp.

Sweetmind was doubled over a few rabbit hops away as she sobbed over the bloody body of Appleleaf. Foxstreak limped toward Brokensong's den. One of her paws was ripped off and was bleeding profusely. Blizzardstar gagged, the overwhelming stench of blood clouding his senses. “Blizzardstar?” a weak voice called from a mass of bodies near the center of camp. He took a short breath and padded over.

It was Wildflight, barely clinging to life. She laid beside the other elders, who had still been keeping vigil next to Nightvolt. Redfern and Willowleaf were already dead, their eyes open yet unseeing.

“Wildflight...” Blizzardstar groaned, “this never should have happened.” No, you were supposed to live a long and happy life with the elders, he thought emotionally. She lifted her paw in an attempt to silence his frantic gasps as he tried to breathe.

“Don't be upset,” she purred. He felt his heart crack in two at her calm voice, already accepting her approaching demise. Her eyes clouded with pain as she tried to sit up. As she did so, blood started to pour out of a wound on her stomach. She had to lay down once more.

“You're talking nonsense,” he wailed. He pressed his nose into her fur. He inhaled deeply in the hopes to preserve some of her scent. But the clearing was so bathed in blood, it filled his nostrils and his open mouth.

“No, I knew IceClan could not live in peace forever,” she whispered. Her whole body shuddered for a moment before she carried on speaking, “but this won't be the end. IceClan will live on...”

Blizzardstar buried his muzzle deeper into her shoulder fur. He became desperate as he felt her blood start to soak into his paw fur. “Don't go,” he pleaded, his body rigid with tension as he waited for her response.

It never came.

Hesitantly, Pineheart approached his father from the edge of the clearing. “Blizzardstar...” he mumbled.

“Yes, Pineheart?” he asked, his voice flat, defeated. It almost hurt his entire being to sit here, his loved ones dead or almost dead around him. All of the cats he had grown up with, cats he had called friends. He should have been able to protect them.

“What should we do if the wolf comes back?” Pineheart's asked, his voice shaky. Hailstorm rested his tail on Blizzardstar's shoulder, which made him jump.

“He's right, Blizzardstar. We have no reason to believe the wolf won't come back to finish what it started,” Hailstorm explained seriously. Wolves weren't a common occurrence in the forest. But now that they knew the IceClan cats were easy prey, nothing would stop them.

Frostfeather slid around the edge of the camp, careful not to stumble over any of her deceased Clanmates. She came to Pineheart's side and stared at the carnage that painted the camp clearing. They looked so afraid... 

Blizzardstar stared at them for a long moment. His brain whirled with his emotions and the responsibility of leadership. What am I supposed to do, he thought wretchedly. On one paw, he couldn't leave his injured Clanmates for death. On the other paw, his healthy warriors had to leave if they were to survive.

IceClan must leave the forest, an achingly familiar voice penetrated his thoughts. He almost twirled around to find the source of the voice, but contained himself. Spottedrose? How can you possibly expect me to just leave the forest? Just the mere thought of it made his stomach curl.

Don't you remember what I had told you so long ago? You will not have to. Frostfeather and Pineheart will lead IceClan to a new home. The StarClan cat's voice drifted through his mind.

“Blizzardstar?” Frostfeather meowed in an attempt to get his attention. He snapped back to reality and realized that he had been staring straight at Pineheart and Frostfeather.

“I'll tell you what IceClan must do,” Blizzardstar instructed. His voice shook with the weight of what he was about to say. “IceClan must leave the forest.”

His uninjured Clanmates stepped forward, so few compared to the lifeless bodies that lay all around them. Aspenclaw limped on a twisted leg, his tail mangled and bloody. Sootsplash, Meadowshine, and Lionpaw stayed huddled near the camp barrier, their eyes wide. Sweetmind had moved from Appleleaf's side, to hover over Quietstorm's cold body. Smallfire must have followed Foxstreak to the medicine den, he was nowhere to be found.

So much death and grief. Can I really ask them to leave? He took a deep breath and prepared to address his Clan for the last time.

“StarClan met with us at the Firestone. They told us that the forest is no longer safe, that IceClan must leave the forest,” he explained. He was met with puzzled looks from the cats that surrounded him.

Brokensong had reappeared from her den, and continued to speak after his pause. “Yes, StarClan told us that there is a sickness in these lands. One that herbs can not cure. It will drive any cat crazy and force them to attack and even kill their anyone.”

“That must be what happened to Nightvolt,” Pineheart realized.

“The wolf must have been infected then,” Hailstorm mewed, “it was acting chaotic! Its jaws were dripping with foam and its eyes were bloodshot.” Blizzardstar continued to gaze around at the battered bodies of his warriors. If he would have just listened... if he would have just heeded Brokensong's warnings.

“I could smell the infection in the air, as we were coming back,” Blizzardstar agreed, “that means that anyone who was bitten or claws will also be infected.” And that left very few that were fit to travel.

“That's unfortunate...” Hailstorm grunted. He raised his paw to show a ragged bite mark along his torso. “I know Aspenclaw and Foxstreak were also injured by the big brute.” 

“Then what are they supposed to do?” Sootsplash called, a challenge in his voice. “If they're sick, they can't come with us when we leave! It'd be pointless!”

Blizzardstar's gaze bore into the white and black splotched tom. “I will stay, and care for them,” Blizzardstar explained. Some of the cats started to protest but he silenced them with a hiss.

“I have led IceClan without question for the better half of my life! StarClan had picked me, to lead us through the darkness so that we could find peace. And now, it's their turn,” he meowed as he turned his attention to his kits. 

“Us?” Pineheart gasped. He looked at his father like he had just sprouted wings. “But you're the leader! How are we supposed to do this without you?!”

Frostfeather wrapped her tail around Pineheart and pulled him close to her side. “You aren't kits anymore,” Blizzardstar breathed, “my last duty as leader will be to make sure my infected Clanmates do not suffer at the paws to this disease.”

“Those of you who are infected may come to my den. I'll patch you up before we leave,” Brokensong meowed. Her voice was thick with regret but there was no way to avoid this now.

Hailstorm turned and padded after her. Elkleap let Aspenclaw lean against his shoulder as he escorted him to the medicine den. Pineheart and Frostfeather also padded over. They weren't sure exactly how they would say their goodbyes to their adopted mother, Foxstreak.

Sootsplash led Meadowshine and Lionpaw to the camp entrance. He stared at the bodies of Quietstorm and Appleleaf, his eyes dark with sorrow. His sister and her kit deserved a better death than this. After some moments, Sweetmind joined him and the others. Elkleap exited the medicine den and also bounded over to wait by the camp entrance.

Blizzardstar watched in silence as his Clan divided themselves, healthy and infected. After a lengthy goodbye, Frostfeater, Pineheart, Smallfire, and Brokensong all left the confines of the medicine den.

Foxstreak hovered at the entrance to watch them leave. Blizzardstar knew how much it would pain her to see them go; the kits she had fostered after her best friend's death, and her own biological offspring. But they would find a new home, where IceClan could survive.

“We should leave immediately,” Brokensong interjected. Blizzardstar was still next to Wildflight, who had since grown cold and stiff at his side. He knew she was right but it didn't make their departure any easier.

“Yes, the longer you wait, the more danger you are all in,” he agreed. He stepped towards the pitifully small group of cats and rested his muzzle on Frostfeather's shoulder. He could feel her tremble with his touch.

“Take good care of IceClan. They will need a strong warrior to guide them,” he whispered. He saw her eyes glitter with sorrow as she pressed her nose into his cheek fur. He inhaled her scent, so warm and familiar. It was hard to imagine he would never see his kits again.

“I will never forget you,” she breathed. The words pierced his heart like a thorn.

“Neither will I,” Pineheart whimpered, “we couldn't have had a better father.”

A purr rumbled in his chest at their kind words. After a few seconds, Blizzardstar sat back on his haunches to look at his Clanmates for one last time. “We won't ever forget you,” they all murmured in unison.

“Don't forget about me either,” Hailstorm called in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“Oh, don't worry. None of you will be forgotten,” Brokensong assured, “hopefully we will all meet again one day.” Yes, they would all meet again, but after they have lived their lives and make their journey to StarClan.

Blizzardstar spoke his final farewells and watched as the tiny patrol finally padded out of the entrance. After a moment, they disappeared from sight. He took a shaky breath and wondered what he was supposed to do now. Did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?

“Blizzardstar!” Foxstreak wailed from inside the medicine den, “my paw hurts like fire!”

“I'm coming!” he replied as he stood and padded back towards the split rock. They still need me, he reminded himself.

“Should I start carrying their bodies out for burial?” Hailstorm asked before Blizzardstar could escape into the den. 

“No, we can sit vigil for them tonight. We will worry about burying them in the morning,” he murmured.

Inside the medicine den, Foxstreak waited patiently for Blizzardstar's arrival. He winced as he noticed her paw, or where her paw was supposed to be. Brokensong had wound it tight with cobweb, and it was covered in a herb paste.

“I'm sorry this had to happen,” he meowed as he came to sit next to the nest that she had claimed. They 

“Oh, I'm not,” Foxstreak murmured, “I'm glad that they left. Atleast, far away from here, they can find somewhere safe.”

Blizzardstar bowed his head. “You're right,” he conceded, “they will finally be safe.”


	12. Chapter Ten

The group padded on in silence. They were headed towards the mountain that housed the Firestone. Pineheart had overheard Brokensong say that they must pass over the peak and head south. But which direction is south?

“Ouch!” Lionpaw exclaimed from her place near the middle of the patrol. 

“Hush.. we mustn't draw the attention of predators,” Meadowshine whispered in her ear. Pineheart desperately hoped that the wolves would not return. With the wounded so vulnerable back at camp, they would surely all perish. The thought of Blizzardstar losing every single one of his lives at the jaws of a wolf sent shivers down his spine.

“We're coming to the first valley!” Brokensong called over her shoulder. Her tone was still subtle, as to not attract any curious eyes. It seemed everyone was on edge. Nothing felt safe anymore...

“What was that?” Smallfire gasped a few paces in front of Pineheart. He had come to a halt while he flicked his tail to and fro. Pineheart almost ran straight into his rump.

“Keep going you daft squirrel,” Pineheart grumbled as he pushed him forward with an ignorant shove. Smallfire shot him a reproachful glance but scurried onward.

I'm not about to make him think he's the only one upset! Foxstreak was my mother too, he thought in frustration. The tom has been almost hysterical while they said their last goodbyes. He wailed that he could not leave her behind.

Yet, here we are, Pineheart reminded himself. His heart burned with guilt and regret. We left all of them behind.

He knew that Foxstreak wasn't his real mother, but she had raised them like her own. It was difficult to imagine that he would never see her, nor Blizzardstar, again.

The patrol padded out of the cover of the pine trees. A massive hill loomed before them. “We will travel over this rise and through the valley,” Brokensong instructed as she trotted along at the head of the group.

Frostfeather was at her side, her shoulders slumped. Pineheart wanted to comfort her, but his heart still stung that she had not confided in him about her dreams.

She had decided to tell him shortly after they left. She had hoped to share her anxieties with him. But he had pushed her away. If she would have come to me sooner, we could have figured out a way to save everyone! Now they're all as good as dead.

As they continued to journey down the valley and up the next hill, Pineheart's fur turned cold. Behind the cats, furious barks and howls echoed through the closely packed trunks of the pine forest.

“The wolves!” Pineheart wailed as he whirled around, “the wolves went back! We have to go help!”

He dug his paws hard into the dirt, ready to push off and charge back towards IceClan. But a heavy weight knocked him over. He looked up into the eyes of Elkleap.

“You can't go back!” he shouted.

“Let me go!” Pineheart rasped as he raked his claws through the short grass. Brokensong was beside them in a moment, her expression grave.

“We can not save them,” she murmured. She looked deep into Pineheart’s eyes and hoped that he would understand. “I need you to accept that.”

“But, Blizzardstar!” His struggle became frantic. Elkleap just pushed him down even harder into the ground.

“Blizzardstar knew what he was doing when he decided to stay,” Frostfeather pointed out as she came to stand beside Brokensong, “he would want us to keep going, so that we can carry on IceClan's legacy.”

Pineheart stopped as she spoke. His eyes were round with disbelief and more importantly, hate. “How can you say that!” he hissed.

“We can't stay here,” Sootsplash called from further ahead. He stood in front of Meadowshine and Lionpaw, his claws unsheathed. Sweetmind stood only a few paces away. She looked stricken with horror as the barks and howls continued in the forest behind them. “If those wolves find our trail, they'll catch up to us in no time!”

Pineheart looked up at Frostfeather. He felt hot anger bubble in his stomach. How can she be so heartless?

Reluctantly, Pineheart allowed himself to be lifted off of the ground. Elkleap kept a stern eye on him, but Pineheart didn't want to delay them any longer. If the wolves caught up to them, Blizzardstar would have died for nothing.

Smallfire kept up with his steady pace, which only made his anger deepen. “Do you think they're alright back there?” Smallfire whispered.

“It's best you two don't think about it,” Elkleap commented. Pineheart flattened his ears, greatful for the silence that followed. Finally, they approached the massive slope of the mountain. The sun shone behind its mighty peak.

Near the base, there were some scraggly bushes and a few trees. “We should rest here until morning,” Brokensong directed. Sootsplash immediately pulled Meadowshine and Lionpaw aside to build them nests underneath a small bush. Sweetmind hovered at their side, clearly unsure of what to do.

“If you'd like, you can join me to go and find some prey,” Elkleap offered as he turned to Pineheart. He stubbornly shook his head. He didn't really want to do much of anything but curl up and go to sleep.

Smallfire sat down beside him and wrapped his tail around his paws. After a moment, Elkleap grunted and turned. Pineheart watched as he disappeared along the edge of the mountain, his ears alert for the sound of prey.

“You can blame me for all of this, if it helps,” Frostfeather's gentle voice sounded in his ear. He turned to look at her as he felt his anger flare anew.

“I will blame you! All of this could have been avoided!” he hissed. Frostfeather's eyes flashed with hurt, her ears flattened against her head.

“I wish that was true,” she mumbled.

Brokensong had started to build nests for the others underneath an adjacent bush. Perhaps the busywork helped to keep her mind off of the grim situation they were all in.

“I wish he could have just come with us,” Frostfeather mewed, “but he had his reasons to stay.”

Like what? We need him more than the infected cats do!

“He believed in us. He knew we could do this without him,” she mewed.

Pineheart sighed, his frustration fading. He knew that she was right. Blizzardstar would not have stayed behind if he knew that they could not survive this journey without him.

“I guess you're right,” he agreed. But his chest felt heavy with sadness. I just wish I could close my eyes and this would all be over.

Pineheart felt her lean into him, her fur unusually cool. Her fur trembled; and when he looked into her eyes, he could see the exact same grief that threatened to overwhelm him.

Smallfire had curled up and fallen asleep right beside them. His orange and white fur was ruffled with exhaustion. Eventually, Elkleap returned with two squirrels for everyone to share. Pineheart jabbed a paw into Smallfire's side to wake him up. He would have to eat before he fell asleep.

Sootsplash helped Elkleap divide up the meat so that everyone had a fair share. As they ate, they all started to share stories of their lives back in the IceClan camp.

“I can remember, back when I was an apprentice. Stormsurge and Weaseltail taunted me to climb a tree! They used to always like to pick on me,” Brokensong purred.

“And I remember back when you were still an apprentice,” Sootplash meowed as he turned to look at Sweetmind. “You and Appleleaf were always trying to get into trouble. Quietstorm had her paws full with you both.”

The calico she-cat's eyes glittered with sadness at the mention of her mother and sister. She stayed silent as the others continued with their own stories.

“Back when we were still kits, I remember Foxstreak scolding you both for bothering the elders,” Smallfire meowed, his voice still bleary with sleep. “She was always trying to keep you both in the nursery.”

“I think she just didn't want anything to happen to us,” Frostfeather commented, “I'm sure it would look bad if she let the leader's kits get hurt or lost.”

The sky was now dark. The stars shined up above the small band of cats as they finished their meals. “We will leave at the first sight of dawn,” Brokensong mewed as she stood to go and pad to her nest. “Make sure to get as much rest as you can.”

The other warriors also went to their nests. They were clearly ready to go to sleep. Smallfire, Pineheart, and Frostfeather all took nests next to each other under a leafy berry bush near the base of the mountain. Brokensong was also there, but it didn’t take long before she fell into a deep sleep.

“Tomorrow is a new day,” Frostfeather mumured as she curled up in her cozy nest, “we will figure out where we should be headed in the morning.”

Pineheart also curled into his bed of moss, ready to finally rest after such a long day. Don't worry Blizzardstar, Pineheart thought as he started to drift into unconsciousness. We won't disappoint you.


	13. Chapter Eleven

“Frostkit, be careful!” a soft voice called from somewhere behind. Frostkit turned to look into the wondrous green eyes of Foxstreak.

“I'm being careful,” she puffed. She lifted her paw to take another playful swipe at Pinekit. He growled and wiggled his haunches, crouched low. With a quick leap, he threw himself on top of Frostkit.

“Ugh! You're too heavy!” she squeaked as she pushed her brother off of her. He flattened his ears and bared his teeth to show her his tiny, kit fangs.

“Maybe I wanted to squish you!” he teased, his black fur spiked all over the place. As soon as he lowered down to take another leap, Blizzardstar padded into camp at the head of a patrol. Frostkit waited as he strode over to them, his head held high.

“Blizzardstar!” Frostkit and Pinekit squealed in unison as they ran towards their father. Foxstreak got up from her shaded resting spot and also started to slowly plod after them.

“They've been rather rambunctious today,” Foxstreak commented as she sat down at Blizzardstar’s side. Frostkit and Pinekit had thrown themselves onto his flank. They used their hind legs to propel themselves onto his back.

“Didn't Smallkit want to play with them?” Blizzardstar asked. He looked towards the nursery entrance in the hopes to see the tiny, orange and white kit.

“You know he'd rather just play by himself. Frostkit and Pinekit get too rough sometimes,” Foxstreak reminded him. She lifted a paw to gently pat the kittens off of their father's spine.

“Come on you two. Blizzardstar has more important things to do than to play,” she chided. Frostkit reluctantly slid down his flank, with Pinekit on her tail..

“But playing is important!” Pinekit puffed, a serious expression on his face. Blizzardstar purred and bent over to touch his nose to Pinekit's forehead.

“You're right, playing is important. So maybe you two should go try and play gently with Smallkit?” he offered, his voice soft with love for his offspring.

“Maybe we can play moss ball,” Frostkit squealed, “Smallkit likes that game!”

“That sounds brilliant Frostkit,” Foxstreak purred while she curled her tail around to brush the she-kit's fuzzy, white fur.

“Yes, that is a good idea. You should both go and find him so that Foxstreak and I can have a private talk,” Blizzardstar instructed.

“About what?” Pinekit inquired as he stretched out a paw to tap at Blizzardstar's tail tip.

“Just a rogue scent on the border. Nothing you kits need to worry about,” he assured them. His tail tip flicked to hit Pinekit in the nose.

“A rogue,” Frostkit repeated, her eyes widened in awe. “What's a rogue?”

“Just a cat who lives without a Clan. Sometimes they can be trouble, but usually they just stick to themselves,” Foxstreak explained.

“I feel like this one was spying on us,” Blizzardstar cut in. He and Foxstreak exchanged a serious glance. “The scent was almost familiar... it reminded me of BreezeClan.”

“BreezeClan...” Frostkit echoed, “I didn't know there was a BreezeClan.”

“You actually lived in the BreezeClan nursery when you were just a few days old,” Foxstreak told her, “that was back when your mother was still alive.”

Frostkit shook out her fur. It still felt uncomfortable to talk about her mother. She couldn't even remember her, but sadness overwhelmed her heart whenever she was mentioned. She wished she could have known her.

“You remind me so much of her,” Blizzardstar murmured as he gazed at Frostkit. She shuffled her paws as sorrow thickened in her chest. “Maybe one day she'll watch you lead IceClan from Silverpelt.”

“Lead IceClan?” Frostkit asked, clearly puzzled. Why would he say anything like that? Is something going to happen to Blizzardstar?

“Don't look so startled. I'm sure no cat knows for certain where your destiny will lead,” Foxstreak soothed as she shot Blizzardstar a stern look. “Until then, we will be here to care for you.”

Pinekit started to stomp around in a circle while his tail waved in the air above him. “My destiny is to become the best hunter in IceClan!”

Frostkit watched him as her thoughts wandered. Foxstreak pulled her closer to her side with her tail. She could vaguely feel her foster mother's tongue as it lapped over the top of her head. But I don't want to be leader, she thought fretfully.

Surprisingly, a strange sensation crept over her pelt, like narrowed eyes that watched her from the shadows. She whirled around and blinked to find herself in an unknown nest. Pineheart and Smallfire were still fast asleep next to her.

She took a deep, steady breath. She remembered that she was no longer in her beloved camp. Their journey had started and she had been forced into a destiny she did not want. As she lay there and stared at the bush, that strange sensation started to wash over her again.

“Is someone there?” she hissed. She squinted to try and make out the glint of eyes in the predawn darkness. Slowly, she stood up and slid out of the makeshift den. There was no one in sight.

Surprisingly, after a few moments, Brokensong appeared from her resting spot. Her pelt was ruffled and unkempt, like she had tossed and turned all night.

“I've had nightmares,” she whispered as she slid over to Frostfeather's side, “I feel these lands are still plagued with evil. We should leave as soon as the others wake up.”

Frostfeather studied the undergrowth that surrounded them. She knew that she, too, had felt an evil presence in the area. “I'll go and wake up Pineheart and Smallfire. Atleast after we cross the mountain, we should be safe from that sickness.”

Brokensong grunted, but Frostfeather wasn't sure if she agreed. She retraced her steps back to the bush so she could rouse the others. Does Brokensong think the sickness isn't the only evil lurking here?


	14. Chapter Twelve

Pineheart pushed Frostfeather away with a disgruntled hiss. “I'm awake!” he growled as he reached out a paw to take a swipe at her side. Musty scents of dried leaves wafted on the breeze from somewhere nearby. Oh how I wish it was pine needles, he thought as he slowly pushed himself to his feet.

“Brokensong wants us to leave immediately,” she explained. Her ears twitched and her fur was spiked along her spine.

“Is something happening?” Pineheart asked, his eyes shadowed with worry. She shook her head and stretched out her foot to shove Smallfire awake.

“We just need to leave before we attract unwanted visitors,” she muttered. She inwardly hoped that Pineheart wouldn't question her any further.

After a couple more tries to prod Smallfire awake, Frostfeather sat back with a huff. “Smallfire, wake up!” she shouted.

Pineheart bent to sniff the tom's fur. Heat radiated from his ungroomed pelt. “I think he's got a fever,” he whispered after a short pause.

“I'll go and get Brokensong,” she mewed before she turned and disappeared out the side of the bush. Pineheart could hear Smallfire's labored breaths. Every now and then, his legs would jerk from a random muscle spasm. Hopefully its just greencough, he thought.

After what felt like an eternity, Brokensong finally poked her narrow snout through the leaves. “Frostfeather says Smallfire is sick,” she mewed..

She stooped down to sniff his fur, but he flinched away. “Don't touch me!” he snapped, “I'm fine!”

“You don't look fine!” Brokensong retorted, “but now that you're awake, we can leave. I don't want to hear you complaining, either!”

Pineheart gasped at the medicine cat. He wondered why she would act so cold and angry. She must just be scared, like the rest of us.

Reluctantly, Smallfire stumbled to his paws. Pineheart could feel the fever as it rolled off of him in waves. He let the shaky tom lean against him for support as they exited the makeshift den.

The others had waited for their arrival. Sootsplash, along with Meadowshine, Sweetmind, and Lionpaw, sat at the base of a nearby tree. Lionpaw looked completely exhausted, her whiskers sagged.

Meadowshine also appeared worn out, her tortoiseshell fur dull and messy. Elkleap hovered a few paces away while he stared off into the distance, back the way they had come. He's the loneliest out of us all, Pineheart realized.

Sootsplash had his family to care for, as well as Sweetmind. She had clung to them like nettle. She was still overcome from her mother and sister’s deaths. Brokensong didn't seem too upset over the loss of her littermate, Weaseltail. But she had always been good at hiding her emotions, which was something all medicine cats learned over time.

And that leaves me, Frostfeather, and Smallfire. And we are littermates, Pineheart thought. Smallfire leaned hard against his flank as his breath came in wheezing gasps.

“Will you be ok?” Pineheart whispered in his ear. He just replied with an angry flick of his tail, his yellow eyes narrowed as they made their way to the others.

“We will be leaving now,” Brokensong announced after everyone had gathered. She began to lead the patrol away, with Sootsplash, Meadowshine, Lionpaw, and Elkleap right on her tail. Frostfeather lingered for a few moments before she followed.

“Alright, we are going to start moving,” Pineheart warned as he started to take a few steps forward. To his relief, Smallfire was perfectly capable to walk. He wobbled a bit as they first set off, but fell into a listless pace after several heartbeats.

Pineheart remained stuck to his side. He was sure if he joined the rest of the group, it was possible for Smallfire to get left behind. Or picked off by some hungry animal, he thought.

It seemed like Brokensong had lead them around the mountain, towards even more hill and valleys that faded into the distance. Pineheart could see the rest of the patrol as they raced further and further away from him and his companion.

“Wait up!” he yowled after them. He noticed Frostfeather glance back, and then bound forward to say something to Brokensong. Thankfully, they slowed enough for Pineheart and Smallfire to catch up.

They were all quiet as they traveled onward, too focused on the path ahead. Pineheart lost track of how many valleys they had climbed, how many they had descended.

After awhile, his flanks began to snarl with hunger. The sun had already crossed the sky to dip back down towards the treetops once more. “Should we take a break to try and find some prey?” he suggested.

Lionpaw looked up at Sootsplash expectantly as her belly also grumbled with hunger. But Brokensong already replied, “No! We need to get as far as we can while there's still light. After the sun sets, we can take a break.”

“And after the sun sets, there won't be any prey,” Pineheart growled under his breath. After only a short trek longer, the valleys finally came to an end. But something new and frightening loomed in their way.

It seemed to be a river of darkness, but instead of water it was a solid, rock like substance. It constantly swarmed with huge, metal beasts with balls of light that glared in their eyes.

The patrol stopped on the verge to watch the monsters as they screeched by on their own, personal journeys. “I don't know how we are supposed to get across,” Brokensong fretted just as she began to pace and sniff at the grass at the edge of the black river.

“Maybe we should wait, and see if StarClan sends us a message,” Elkleap offered, his voice kind and tender as he addressed the medicine cat.

Despite his kindness, her eyes flared with rage. “Do you really think StarClan are going to send us a message?! StarClan aren't here!”

Pineheart felt his pelt tingle at her harsh words. Of course StarClan was with them. Where else would they be?

Smallfire started to wheeze while they sat at the edge of a small bush. He could hear the leaves beside him rustle from the monster's wind as they rushed by. “Brokensong, I think Smallfire needs herbs for his breathing,” Pineheart announced. 

Brokensong snapped her attention towards the two toms. But her gaze was not focused directly on them, but at the bush that quivered just behind their tails. “Brokensong, are you ok?” he questioned.

“Shhh! Be quiet!” she hissed as she stared at the jostled foliage, “I think we are being watched!”


	15. Chapter Thirteen

Frostfeather scanned the leafy branches that hung behind her brother. She tried to set her eyes on what Brokensong had seen. Who's watching us? 

Elkleap stepped towards Pineheart and Smallfire, his attention fixed on the bush just beyond their haunches. “Whoever you are, come out now!” he growled. The monsters on the path beside them screeched and thundered on their journey passed, oblivious to what occurred on the thin strip of grass.

After several long heartbeats, a lithe shape leaped from the cover of the shadows. She landed in front of the toms to come and stand before Elkleap.

Brokensong gasped in astonishment as she sauntered closer. “You're... you're Dewdrop, aren't you?” she stammered. Her whiskers twitched in amazement, her eyes darted all over the silver pelted stranger.

“Yes, but I have not been called that name in some moons,” she purred, “I have lived on my own since BreezeClan was defeated.”

“Why didn't you want to come live with your Clanmates in IceClan?” Elkleap pondered, “they had assumed you were dead.”

Dewdrop's eyes sparkled with fury as she retorted, “and I had thought they'd been killed by IceClan scum!”

She cast her attention over their small group. “It doesn't look like any of them are with you. How am I to know that IceClan didn't kill them all?” Frostfeather gasped in surprise, how could she think that?

“Your Clanmates lived peaceful lives in IceClan before a sickness spread over the forest. Right before we left, wolves attacked the camp and left many dead. We are all that are left,” Elkleap meowed gently, “I'm sorry we could not have been blessed with more BreezeClan survivors.”

Frostfeather could see sadness flash across the features of the old BreezeClan medicine cat. Her shoulders hunched as she let out a small, strangled sigh. “I see...” she murmured.

Brokensong rested her tail tip lightly against Dewdrop's side. “But we do have some descendants of your old Clanmates. Smallfire is Foxstreak's son. And I'm sure you remember Frostkit and Pinekit. They've grown up, and are also fortunate to be traveling with us.”

Dewdrop's interest instantly turned towards Frostfeather. She thought she saw malice in her expression but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. “So, Blizzardstar is not with you?” she asked slowly.

“No, Blizzardstar gave his life to allow us all to escape,” Pineheart spoke as he stood and started to guide Smallfire closer to the rest of the patrol.

A smirk spread across Dewdrop's face. Frostfeather opened her mouth to confront her, but Elkleap had already began to reply, “if you'd like to travel with us, we wouldn't mind. We are trying to find a new territory, away from this sickness.”

“Yes, I think I'd like that,” Dewdrop confessed, “it'll be nice to be in the company of Clan cats once more.” Her reply sounded sincere but everything about this situation sent a wave of doubt over Frostfeather’s fur.

“Now, we just need to figure out how to cross this,” Elkleap commented as he swung around to stare across the black river once more.

“Oh, that? I've crossed this Thunderpath dozens of times,” Dewdrop chimed, “you just have to wait until the thundering stops and then race across as quick as you can!”

Sootsplash grumbled from his place beside the others, “that sounds dangerous.” Frostfeather agreed, those monsters were big enough to flatten even the largest badger.

Dewdrop took a couple of pawsteps closer to the edge of the Thunderpath. She let her paws graze the edge of the bumpy, black surface. “It's not very dangerous, really. You can feel the vibrations in your paws. If the rumbling stops, there's plenty of time to cross.”

Another monster flashed passed. Its brilliant crimson coat dazzled Frostfeather's eyes. She didn't exactly trust this strange she-cat. The delighted look on her face at the mention of Blizzardstar's demise had made her pelt crawl.

She watched as Dewdrop lined her Clanmates up next to the verge of the dark path. “It's best to go in small groups. Everyone should pair themselves with another cat,” she instructed.

Pineheart remained next to Smallfire while Elkleap slunk closer to Lionpaw. Sootsplash took up his position beside Meadowshine. That left Frostfeather with Sweetmind, the timid, calico she-cat.

They waited there for some time, while monsters constantly rushed by on the Thunderpath. “This is taking forever!” Lionpaw wailed.

“Hush, Dewdrop needs to concentrate,” Meadowshine scolded her. Frostfeather sunk her claws into the grass, anticipation swirling like a storm in her chest.

Miraculously, the endless quake of the monsters eased. “Whoever is going first needs to be ready,” Dewdrop warned.

Elkleap traipsed forward with Lionpaw practically glued to his side. His tail wrapped protectively over her back and down her flank. As the monsters disappeared, Dewdrop howled, “Now!”

Elkleap sprang onto the surface of the Thunderpath and flew in the direction of the opposite side. Lionpaw seemed like a blur of russet fur as she kept pace with him and finally came to rest in the grass on the other side.

“See, easy,” Dewdrop purred. Frostfeather still wasn't convinced. Next came Sootsplash and Meadowshine, who crossed without incident. It sounded like the monsters had taken a break.

“Next,” Dewdrop urged as Pineheart and Smallfire inched forward. As they started to hobble across, Frostfeather was painfully aware how slow they were. 

In the distance, the hum of monsters once more vibrated the oily, black surface. Frostfeather held her breath until Pineheart and Smallfire fell into the soft grasses on the other side.

“We will have to wait again,” Brokensong murmured as the Thunderpath erupted with the harsh sounds of monsters as they shot passed. All that remained was Brokensong, Dewdrop, Sweetmind, and Frostfeather.

“Do you know where you're headed after this?” Dewdrop questioned Brokensong as they waited for their chance to cross.

“I figured we could just keep moving onward. The sun sets in front of us, so we can just keep following that,” she explained. Dewdrop nodded and turned her attention back to the Thunderpath. 

“I think our chance is coming,” Dewdrop mewed, “you'll have to cross by yourself so that I can instruct you.” Brokensong nodded in response. 

Frostfeather could feel Sweetmind tremble next to her. She watched with wide eyes as the monsters ceased and Brokensong flung herself across the Thunderpath. Her black tipped tail vanished into the bushes where the others had stopped to wait.

“Your turn next,” Dewdrop meowed as Frostfeather and Sweetmind stepped up to the edge. She glanced back at Dewdrop as foreboding boiled deep in her limbs.

“Alright, go!” she grunted. As Frostfeather went to take her first leap onto the path, something solid snagged hold of her tail. The pain made her stagger, like hot needles up her spine.

She turned to see that Dewdrop had her tail tip firmly clamped between her jaws. With a defiant yowl, she tore her tail free and scrambled to catch up to Sweetmind. But as she neared the center of the path, a screech sounded from down the Thunderpath. She stopped and lay her eyes on a monster that hurtled straight towards her.

Oh no, I'm done for! She felt her limbs freeze with shock, too numb to move. But just as the monster was about to strike, something pushed her out of the way. With a thud, she landed on the side of the Thunderpath. The monster swerved away in a cloud of gritty smoke and dust.

Frostfeather stared back across the path to set her eyes on Dewdrop. The gray medicine cat glared back at her, her face creased with fury. She lifted her head to look where she had been frozen to the black surface. What she saw made her heart start to slam against her rib cage.

In the middle of the Thunderpath, lay a smear of bright orange, white, and black fur. “Sweetmind!” Frostfeather cried. Dewdrop advanced across the path in a few moments, her tail twitched begins her.

She felt Dewdrop grab her scruff as she started to drag her across the last section of the road. “Let me go!” she shouted, “I need to get Sweetmind!”

“She's as good as dead,” Dewdrop hissed around her fur. She twisted her body to attempt to free herself, but Dewdrop just clenched her teeth harder into the soft skin of her scruff.

As they finally padded onto the opposite side, Frostfeather felt Dewdrop release her as she was dropped into the furry embrace of the lush grass.

“Where's Sweetmind?” Elkleap asked. Frostfeather wanted to answer, she wanted to confess they had left Sweetmind's body, crushed, back on the Thunderpath. 

Why? Why did you have to save me, she thought wretchedly as the angry hum of the monsters intensified and swallowed up the lifeless body of Sweetmind.


	16. Chapter Fourteen

Pineheart joined the other warriors beside the barren bushes. His pelt was still spiked with fear from his perilous journey with Smallfire across the Thunderpath. The orange and white tom had lay down to rest, his fever threatened to overwhelm him.

“Where's Sweetmind?” Pineheart heard Elkleap ask as he approached. He glanced towards Frostfeather and noticed that the calico she-cat was nowhere in sight.

Dewdrop stepped around from behind Frostfeather, her expression dark. “She got caught under the paws of a monster. We couldn't save her.”

Pineheart flinched with shock. Sweetmind is dead?

“She was trying to save me,” Frostfeather choked, her voice drowned with a sob. Pineheart wondered what exactly had happened. If Dewdrop was keeping watch, there shouldn’t have been any chance of this occurring.

Elkleap bowed his head. “That's a shame. At least it was a noble death. One of a true warrior.”

Brokensong also spoke up, her face stunned with distress but her voice strong, “yes, she knew the sacrifice she was making. If she was saving you from the paws of a monster, it was truly the death of a warrior.”

Pineheart leaned closer to Frostfeather to try and ease her pain. He could feel her anguish like hot sludge on his pelt. “It'll be ok...” he murmured, “she knew what she was doing.” The familiar words seemed to tumble out of his mouth. Those were almost the exact words she said to me about Blizzardstar.

“I think it's Dewdrop's fault!” Frostfeather hissed, quiet enough for only him to hear. He glanced up to see her glare at the silver pelted medicine cat. Her eyes were narrowed with intense fury.

“How is it her fault? She was the one who was helping us to cross,” he asked softly. He couldn’t deny he had found the situation fishy, but why would Dewdrop want to harm them?

“She snagged my tail when I tried to cross! She must have wanted me to get hit, but it was Sweetmind instead!” Her voice rose to a helpless wail. She had gained the attention of the other warriors, who eyed her curiously.

“You've been through quite a shock,” Elkleap murmured as he inched closer to Frostfeather, “but we should keep moving and stop dwelling on what happened. Sweetmind wouldn't want you to blame yourself.”

Frostfeather shook her head, her suspicions going unnoticed. But Pineheart knew she couldn’t be imagining it. For whatever reason, Dewdrop was trying to sabotage them!

~~~~~~~~~~

After a short breather, the patrol set off once more. They followed Brokensong's suggestion, to head towards the sunset.

As they plodded along, Brokensong started to formally introduce Dewdrop to the others.

“I'm sure you already know this is Elkleap,” she began as she pointed her tail towards the black and brown striped tom.

“Ah, yes. And I know Sootsplash and Meadowshine as well,” Dewdrop confirmed, “I may be getting old but my memory is still sharp. I remember seeing them along the border back when BreezeClan was still around.”

“That was some time ago,” Brokensong agreed, “but Sootsplash and Meadowshine also have a daughter.” Brokensong turned her head to look at Lionpaw. “Her name is Lionpaw. She used to have a littermate as well. Her name was Shimmerpaw, but she died when the sickness started to overtake our camp.”

“That's a shame,” Dewdrop commented, “wherever we are going, we will need more young cats.” Yeah, too bad you killed Sweetmind, Frostfeather fumed.

“We will have to figure it out when we get there,” Elkleap grunted, “no sense worrying about it now.”

Brokensong flicked her tail and continued her introductions to Dewdrop. “The white she-cat is Frostfeather, and the black tom is Pineheart. I figured you would recognize them, since you were the one who helped Spottedrose during her kitting.”

“Ah, yes... they did look familiar,” she agreed. Frostfeather squinted her eyes and stared angrily at the back of Dewdrop's head. What in StarClan's name is she up to, she wondered.

“Smallfire is the white and orange tom. He has been a bit under the weather since we left. I think he just needs a proper camp to rest in, with warm nests and fresh kill,” Brokensong continued.

Frostfeather noticed Dewdrop's ears perk with mild interest. What's she thinking now, she pondered. It 

“If he has a fever we should stop and find some feverfew,” Dewdrop insisted. She glanced up at the sky, which had already become streaked with the faint rays of the sunset. “I'm sure everyone could do with a rest.”

They had traveled at a steady pace since they departed from the Thunderpath. No one was sure how long they'd have to walk before they reached a new home, but hopefully it was sooner rather than later.

After they had left the noisy Thunderpath, they hadn't encountered even a single strip of forest. Vast, grassy plains stretched into the distance, only lightly dusted with the frosty touch of snow.

“I'm not exactly sure where you're expecting us to rest,” Sootsplash grumbled, “I'm not going to have Lionpaw and Meadowshine sleeping out in the open.”

Elkleap rolled his eyes and reared back on his hind paws to inspect the horizon for any sign of trees. After a second, he dropped back down and turned to the others. “I still don't see any signs of a forest. I'll scout ahead to see if I can find any other shelter. Just stay put.”

The tom bounded away into the tall, dense grass. Dewdrop faced Pineheart and Smallfire and walked closer towards them. “How are you feeling, Smallfire?” she asked kindly.

He groaned and flopped onto his side. “I'm so thirsty,” he croaked.

“You'll feel better after we eat some prey,” Pineheart reasoned as he bent over to nuzzle Smallfire's flank.

The patrol waited for some time for Elkleap to return. Darkness began to creep across the field, shrouding the Clan cats in shadow. “Maybe we should go looking for him,” Meadowshine declared, “something could have happened.” 

Lionpaw whimpered and snuggled closer to her mother's side. “I'm sure Elkleap's fine,” Brokensong replied curtly.

She was right; after only a few more minutes, Elkleap reappeared from the depths of the frost-tipped grass. “I found us an abandoned badger set. It's big enough for us all to sleep in,” he reported in excitement.

“That sounds perfect,” Brokensong mused, “lead the way.”

The entire patrol slowly got to their paws and followed after Elkleap as he led them to the badger set. Dewdrop kept herself to the back of the group. She hovered close behind Pineheart and Smallfire, her head low.

“After we are all settled, Pineheart, Sootsplash, and I are going to go hunting to try and find some prey,” Elkleap ordered casually over his shoulder. Frostfeather glanced up at the sky, where only a streak of sunshine remained. Hopefully they could manage to find something.

Frostfeather felt her stomach groan with hunger. After some fresh-kill and a long rest, they'd be ready for whatever this journey managed to throw their way.


	17. Chapter Fifteen

The badger den was certainly big enough for everyone to sleep comfortably inside. Meadowshine and Lionpaw curled together near the back wall, while Dewdrop still clung close to Smallfire's huddled form.

Frostfeather watched Meadowshine as she wound tighter around Lionpaw, tortoiseshell and sandy orange fur merged into a cozy blanket. 

Brokensong sat just a short way down from the den entrance. She stared out the hole, her one good eye transfixed on the night sky above them. Her brown and black pelt rippled as she raised her muzzle to take a sniff of the chilly air. “I think I can smell them,” she murmured. Frostfeather got to her paws and padded over just as Elkleap appeared at the mouth of the den. His mouth was crammed with prey.

The white and black form of Sootsplash came next. He carried the plump body of a squirrel, which he immediately carried towards his mate and kit. Lastly came Pineheart, his head bent down from the weight of the rabbit he carried.

“The prey is so plentiful here,” Elkleap rejoiced as he dropped his freshkill in the center of the den. Brokensong stood at his shoulder and looked down at the pile with famished eyes.

“We haven't eaten this well since before we left camp,” she recalled, “well done, all of you.”

Frostfeather grabbed a mouse from the pile and joined Pineheart near the side of the burrow. She could feel the earthen wall press against her flank as she made herself comfortable. To Pineheart's other side lay Smallfire. Dewdrop had grabbed him a mouse, but he only grumbled and curled tighter as he fell back to sleep.

“We need to do something for Smallfire,” Dewdrop fretted as the others began to tuck into their meals, “he's only going to get worse and slow us down.”

Brokensong snorted. “I tried to treat him before we left the territory but he didn't want my help. He's going to have to wait until we find somewhere that grows the herbs we need.” Frostfeather hadn’t thought she would still be prickly over that ordeal.

Dewdrop dipped her head in submission to the other medicine cat. “That seems wise...” she agreed. 

As the moon ascended further into the star speckled sky, the den filled with the soft snores of the Clan cats as they fell asleep. Elkleap lay close to the entrance, one ear alert for any signs of trouble. 

Frostfeather let her tired gaze rest on every one of her Clanmates as she snuggled closer to Pineheart's side. Hopefully we find a home soon, she thought as she closed her eyes and drifted into slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~

Frostfeather felt the sting of the chilly, night air as it whipped against her muzzle. How is there wind down here, underground, she wondered as she blinked open her eyes.

To her amazement, she was not curled up in the den next to her brother. She was in the field, the thick grasses waved around her as they were buffeted by the breeze. The sky was still dark, spattered with stars that pulsated above her. She glanced down at her paws and noticed that the ground was littered with star studded paw prints. She took a deep breath and detected the scent of other cats nearby.

She bounced forward and followed the shimmering tracks until she practically crashed into the back of a cat. She couldn't believe her eyes, it was Wildflight! Her dusty, brown fur shined with starlight. All of her old age had disappeared to be replaced with taught muscles and a confident stride.

Ahead of her, a massive sea of pelts traveled towards the horzon. She could pick up so many scents; Blizzardstar, Nightvolt, Redfern, Shimmerpaw, Sweetmind... and even ten fold more that she could not even begin to name.

“We have to keep moving!” an achingly familiar voice called from somewhere just ahead, “we must keep going, to the sea!”

She squinted hard to try and make out the white fur of her father. “Blizzardstar! Blizzardstar, I'm here!” she yowled, but no one acknowledged her desperate cries. She started to push through the crowd, but the StarClan spirits did not stir at her touch.

“When do you think we will arrive?” A gray pelted she-cat blurted. Frostfeather picked up her pace until she ran along beside the sparkly pelted cat. Her breath puffed out of her open jaws in shallow gasps. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep up.

“I am not sure, Quickwater. But we need to be sure that we get there as fast as possible. Wherever IceClan are to settle, StarClan will be waiting for them,” Blizzardstar replied.

Frostfeather felt a vibrant warmth spread over her fur. She had not realized StarClan were so vast, there were so many cats...

Finally, she rested her eyes on the ivory pelt of Blizzardstar. She wanted to run to him, to bury her muzzle in his soft fur. But she didn't want to take the risk, the illusion could break at any moment. She knew she was meant to see this vision.

Next to Blizzardstar padded the silky calico she-cat, Spottedrose. Their tails twined like ivy, their pelts brushed as they walked side-by-side.

Wherever IceClan goes, StarClan will be waiting for us...

“We will continue to follow the setting sun. Eventually, we will find our new home!” a white and gray spotted she-cat called out to the others.

Yowls and cheers erupted as the StarClan cats continued on their invisible path towards the sunset. Frostfeather let out her own joyous howl as the pelts of the StarClan cats pressed all around her.

But as soon as she blinked, the vision snapped from her view and she was once more in the musty badger den with her companions.


End file.
